


New York City: Strut Your Way To Love

by HADALABO



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 213,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HADALABO/pseuds/HADALABO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I Love You." "Why?" "You Can't Ask Why About Love." After his NYADA rejection, Kurt leaves his childhood town of Lima behind and enters his undecided future in the city of his dreams, New York. However one thing he doesn't anticipate are for his plans to be ruptured by a career he never thought he'd have the looks for and a tanned tycoon he'd never in a lifetime think he'd meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Big Apple

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first Puckurt story and fan fiction tale so thanks for reading the first chapter. Hopefully what you've read is of interest to you and you will be entertained to read further. This is indeed an Alternate Universe tale set during Glee Season 4, however due to this there will be characters from the show alongside characters I have created myself. I've rated this narrative Explicit for a reason. Although it won't appear any time soon, there will be sex scenes as well as use of strong language and profanity. Just to let you know.
> 
> A special thanks to my beta, Kurtofsky4eva, for looking over my work with such care. 
> 
> I do not own the rights to the characters from Glee since I don't own the show. I'm not earning money from this and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I mean only to please whoever stumbles upon my Love Story.

  **NEW YORK CITY: STRUT YOUR WAY TO LOVE**

"There are as many loves as there are hearts." At the twilight of the modern world, an affair shocked a nation. A bold vision of an epic story that will powerfully explore the capacity for love that surges through the heart.

_Diet mountain dew, baby, New York City_  
_Never was there ever a boy so pretty_  
_Do you think we'll be in love forever?_  
_Do you think we'll be in love?_

Kurt Hummel peered excitedly out of his porthole onto the sight of the looming city ahead as the plane started its descent. This was it, he crowed silently, his blue-green eyes sparkling. This was the place where his dreams were to come true. After nineteen years of living in the heavily prejudiced cow town of Lima, Ohio, he'd managed to escape its confines and head to the city he'd only briefly visited before, and what a breathtaking city it was.

He held his breath, marveling at the elegant skyscrapers that stroked the sky and the ocean that glistened magically. The sunset was casting the whole sky in a myriad of candy pinks and delicious oranges with the sun itself, stunning as ever, saying goodbye to the day.

Kurt had spent the whole of his previous afternoon packing his various belongings, selecting only the best outfits and pieces of clothing he'd accumulated over the years to bring with him. Although he was disappointed he couldn't transport his entire wardrobe, he'd been realistic, and it wasn't like he was never going to see them again. That and his new apartment didn't contain the vast amount of wardrobe space compared to his own room. Along with his items of fashion, he'd packed his makeup and skincare products, a collection of CD and DVDs ranging from the delightful musicals he'd fallen in love with to the concert tours of his favorite artists and any other objects he believed would be of use to him.

The next morning, his father, Burt, had sat him down at his desk in his study discussing topics ranging from overseeing his finances to generally being cautious when residing in the city. He'd been so worried about his only son getting lost in one of the most populous areas in the US that he'd even detailed directions and steps on how to successfully find your way through the crowd-filled airports. Kurt had rolled his eyes at his fretting father, insisting that he was probably as independent as they came, and that stress would only further weaken his father's health.

"Goodbye, son. Ring or text me when you land, okay? I want to be sure you arrived there in one piece."

Burt had driven him to Columbus airport, once again singing the extended version of the talk they had had earlier, with verses consisting of: 'I know you're not a girl but there's no shame in hiding a pepper spray in your bag just in case' and 'It's better to feel safe than sorry, Kurt.' His son had moaned in annoyance before leaning his head on his headrest and closing his eyes. Sure he was nervous but reminding him of the city's crime rate? _Not a good start, dad!_

"Don't worry, dad. Nothing's going to happen to me. I understand you not wanting to let me go but seriously, I'm not a kid anymore. You've got to let me stand on my own two feet. It's only how I'll ever learn." Kurt had pulled his father into a reassuring hug and he'd put his all into it. After all, he'd only see him during the holidays and maybe the odd visit if Burt was to ever visit him in New York.

"I trust you, son." Burt untangled himself from his boy so as to look intently into his young eyes. "You remind me so much of your mother. Elizabeth was an independent spirit and that's what people loved about her."

At this, Kurt's ears pricked up as he listened intently. Anything on the topic on his beloved mother would always capture his attention.

"You have her blood pumping through your veins and as long as you never forget that, I believe I can see great happiness in your future."

It was the only thing Kurt had ever wanted to hear from his father. The only time when parting words could wrap themselves up into a present that you always kept close, no matter what. With that in mind, Kurt had straightened up and had beamed a positive smile back at his father, one that had burst with confidence before he'd turned on his heel and entered the airport. New York City, here I come...

Thud! The plane's wheels hit the strip with a sudden jolt, braking ever so gradually before coming to a stop at the gate. Unlike many people he had come to know, Kurt didn't have a problem with planes. In fact, one of his favorite experiences would be when it would take off. That was the best part. He didn't know what it was, but he blamed it on the adrenaline. It was just something he couldn't get enough of. However, the same could not be said for his neighbor, who had vomited a total of six times throughout the entire journey.

Such repugnant activity would have disgusted the brunet to the core if it had not been for the small TV screens planted at the back of the seats in front of them. He'd managed to scroll through the small library of films offered to its passengers as a distraction, but had been correct in predicting that no musicals were in the selection. It wasn't that big of a deal. It had been time for him anyway to see other features across the media spectrum including Disney Pixar's 'Cars' and 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II'. Admittedly they hadn't been the most compatible of combos but they'd been a sufficient diversion from the hacking being done beside him.

When not staring blankly at his screen or pulling disgusted faces at his neighbor, who unfortunately to top it all off, hadn't been introduced to the concept of personal hygiene, judging by the foul odor, greasy hair and dandruff-sprinkled shoulders, Kurt had looked out of his porthole, mesmerized by the sea of marshmallow clouds obscuring the land itself. After he'd been heart-wrenchingly rejected by NYADA, the college he'd only ever dreamed of attending, he'd started questioning his future. What on earth was he going to do now? The establishment he had attempted to break into was clearly rejecting him in the form of a pathetic piece of paper which he'd shredded immediately. He couldn't stand it, he couldn't bear it. Just the thought of bringing in such a negative object into the house was, of course, out of the question.

His best friend, Mercedes Jones and her boyfriend Sam, had rushed to shore up his crumbling state of mind, which had led to eating tub after tub of Häagen-Dazs ice cream and watching comedies like 'Web Therapy' and 'Cougar Town' on repeat. He'd only stopped wallowing, however, once Mercedes had completely given up unsuccessfully trying to sooth him before she'd grabbed him in exasperation and shoved him in front of his full-length mirror.

What he'd seen looking back at him had made him want to scream. A depressed-looking boy wearing a fitted white tee shirt stained with chocolate and strawberry remnants, tight sweatpants that seemed to have been on a quest on squeezing the life out of his hips… and his hair! Oh, his hair had gone beyond all repair. Following the trail of destruction, his face had been pale, dull and devoid of life and his puffy eyes had been ringed with red, with tear streaks engraved in his cheeks.

The fact that he'd gained weight as well as not taking care of himself, resulting in acne-covered skin, deep under eye circles and slimy hair had been a very loud wake up call. Sure, NYADA could have cruelly snatched away his dream of studying with them this coming educational year, but that didn't mean they could rob him of his usually perfect appearance. Hell to the no!

As a result, Kurt had quickly returned to his former glory and had decided whilst doing so to continue pursuing his dreams of Broadway stardom. He'd successfully arranged a year's work experience at a small community theater in the heart of New York, telling himself that if he wasn't going to study, he might was well learn the crucial tricks of the trade from those in the profession. It was going to be very useful and who knew how much he'd get out of it? Even if it killed him, he vowed to sing on a Broadway stage by this time next year.

Once Kurt had disembarked from the plane, finally managed to wave over a taxi and arrive at his new apartment, he was exhausted. His body had been drained of all energy and his mind was too consumed with thoughts of the comfortable bed that would be awaiting him in his room. His tiredness even eclipsed his love of unpacking, and although it was something he was going to have to undertake before the actual settling down process began, he just couldn't be bothered in the slightest. He'd not even had time to properly scan his new apartment, what with his heavily lidded eyes.

The place itself, which was located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, wasn't small but it wasn't large either. It was reasonably quaint with a kitchen, dining room, study, living room, bedroom and bathroom, all moderate in size and all modern in design. It was great. In fact the whole building had only been recently built within the last year which meant that everything was up to date, fully furnished and as sleek as a raging new Rolls Royce Phantom, yet he wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for Burt. His father had insisted on helping him secure a good place to reside in the city even if it was the last thing he did. After all, his son required high standards of living and it was only natural to offer him the best, even if Kurt hadn't been happy about it. The brunet had wanted to survive on his own, live out the full New York experience but after much pestering and nagging, enough to shame even the bossiest of housewives, Kurt had finally given into his father's assistance. After all, who was he to say no?

Later that night, the pale boy lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as the moonlight cast a soft blue glow through the windows onto the opposite wall. He was here. He'd arrived in one piece. He'd texted Burt, of course, to let him know that he was, indeed, alive and was on his way to his new home in a vehicle not rigged with explosives. It was the least he could do. Sticking to his promises was something he always did. Plus, he didn't want any drink his father was to have to stir itself up after being held in a shaking hand. The contents would fly absolutely everywhere.

"Don't forget to keep me updated, son. I want to hear from you every day."

The brunet couldn't help but smile at his father's response. It was just so like him and he loved it. He no longer found Burt's worrying nature annoying now that we was all alone in a big city, but began to see it as more of an invisible security blanket. Something he could always turn and snuggle into when in doubt. _I'm fine. I'm going to be fine...  
_

_Diet mountain dew, baby, New York City_  
_Can we get it now low, down and gritty?_  
_Do you think we'll be in love forever?_  
_Do you think we'll be in love?_


	2. Times Square

Kurt woke up groggily to the sight of the sun's golden rays filling his room and the sounds of busy traffic and birds singing in the distance. He had not slept well. He had assumed that the night would have been over before he knew it and that he would have overslept by hours due to the traveling he'd undertaken the previous day. He guessed, however, that becoming accustomed to the continued noise of the city that never slept was going to be harder than predicted. In fact, he'd not expected it to be an issue. _Damn._

Planning to explore his apartment as well as the local area, which had been nothing but a blur of lights the night before, Kurt slowly rose from his bed and opened the windows to air out his room. It was the start of September and the month was blooming with a temperature that was increasing in heat every minute. He'd researched on the Internet prior to leaving Lima that the heat could rise all the way up to a scorching one hundred and two degrees at this time of year if New Yorkers were unlucky enough. In any case, Kurt was going to have to seriously consider slapping on the sunscreen. Resembling a baked tomato was a look best left to the cook books.

After he had showered and dressed himself in a pair of blue Catalina skinny jeans, a classic rose-pink fitted polo shirt and white flip flops, Kurt began to unpack everything into his new world. Though many considered unpacking a menial nightmare of a job, he didn't share that view. He believed it to be refreshing as it meant the start of something clean and new and, in his case, a new life. After an hour of shifting furniture, moving around various items of decorative art and placing the final touches to everything else, Kurt let out a contented sigh as he stood in the corner of each room to view his handiwork. _God, I'm good!_

Everything was neatly yet efficiently positioned in its designated area and he couldn't help but marvel at it all. He'd had it all done and dusted within an hour which made it his second real accomplishment in New York so far, the first being that he'd not been robbed as yet. Yes, those crime statistics could overwhelm anyone but he wasn't going to become one of them, no way. Snapping out of his self-complimentary daze when one of the sun's rays hit him square in the eye, Kurt winced before turning away from the light. _God damn it, I can't lose my sight so early on in the game,_ he thought as he pulled on his thin cream-colored cardigan, snatched up his keys and exited the building. _I need all five of my senses plus my sixth if I'm to make it here._

By the time Kurt had descended his apartment building's stairs onto the pavement outside, the New York sun was blaring heavily down on the city below. A slight breeze, however, offered everyone natural air conditioning, a respite from the heat and as Kurt made his way towards the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in Central Park, he thanked God that he'd remembered to drench his skin in SPF one million sunscreen before stepping outside. With his coloring, he wouldn't be surprised if people were to mistake him for a human reflector. Thankfully, the walk wasn't too long, considering his apartment was located on the upper west side but he was grateful that it allowed him to stretch his legs.

The park itself was beautiful. It was brimming with wildlife, the lake was fully stocked and nature itself looked as if it hadn't even been touched by the city encircling it, let alone the human hand. Kurt glanced around as he wandered through the park in the direction of Times Square whilst attempting to take as much of it in as possible. He noticed groups of families and friends sitting down and enjoying picnics in the shade. He noticed bread being thrown to the ducks from the hands of little ones, and he came across couples sharing treasured, intimate moments on benches, their kisses reminding him of his own love life, or rather, its absence. Back when he was attending Dalton Academy, a private school an hour's drive away from Lima in Westerville, he'd entered a light relationship with one of his fellow glee club mates, Blaine Anderson.

Blaine was handsome, well-groomed, had a great voice and was only one step away from becoming the ultimate gentleman. They'd never gone beyond kissing which in itself turned out to be awkward, considering it felt to both of them as if they were kissing their sibling. Kurt ultimately blamed it on the fact that they had too much in common with each other. They shared the same tastes in music, film and anything else where difference in choice should have come in. In fact, it sounded so ideal on the outside that breaking it off between them had sounded at first like a bad idea. However, in the end, it wasn't meant to be.

Unbeknownst to them, their relationship had categorized itself more on the friendship line than the sexual one since day one and, as a result, it had all gone downhill from there. After the discovery, both Kurt and Blaine had decided to remain friends – which wasn't that much of a disappointment to either of them, except, in a way, it was for Kurt. It was the realization that he was single again, alone again and without anyone to be affectionate with that got to him. It was a sad feeling and it didn't help matters that, within as little as a month after their breakup, Blaine had already begun dating fellow Warbler member Sebastian Smythe. _Can't I catch a break, he'd wondered. No? Okay, then_.

Now, as Kurt approached Times Square, he stopped and viewed the magnificence of it all. The billboards, the lights, the atmosphere and the sheer life it all exuded. It was just breathtaking. Yes, the Broadway theaters were a few seconds' walk away across the sea of yellow cabs and yes, the reminder of his rejection letter flashed repeatedly in his head, but what should have made him spin around and flee the scene hadn't. Kurt just couldn't bring himself to falter. Just the exciting prospect of now living and working in New York City was enough to lift his spirits as high. As it turned out, the community theater was just a little farther away from his current location, so he was appreciative that his work experience and dream job weren't separated by miles of land. However, just as he was about to travel farther into the square, a flash of blinding light caught his eye.

A few miles away, seemingly situated in the financial district of the city was one of the highest skyscrapers in the area. The building itself, from the distance and point of view Kurt was at, looked as if it were made entirely of glass. The sun's rays seemed to reflect elegantly off its surface and, like a prism, scattered the light for miles around in a light rainbow of color. Scrap Times Square. This was the ultimate breathtaking sight. _Crap! If only I'd brought my camera along,_ Kurt thought as he silently cursed himself. _So many sights to record, too little equipment on hand._ He stole another glimpse at the splendor of the building but this time, narrowed his eyes. Along its side Kurt could make out large metallic letters, which seemed to descend like ominous gods toward the ground, but what they spelled out eluded him. The distance was too great.

"Excuse me," Kurt said as he approached an elderly woman throwing breadcrumbs on the ground, the food being gobbled up by a small group of pigeons that had come flocking over for breakfast. Looking up from the feeding, the woman raised her eyes to meet his in curiosity as he continued. "Hi, I was wondering if_"

"I'm not giving away my bread to people, young man. So unless you learn to grow wings and fly, beat it!" The woman glared as Kurt stood shocked at the surprising and rude response he'd been given. All elderly people he'd met previously in his life had been nothing but polite and hospitable, but this old woman, well, she was nothing short of a nasty piece of work. "I can see why you're after my babies' bread, seeing as you're thin as a string, but stuff yourself with someone else's grub, pretty boy!"

"I don't want your 'grub'. I was actually about to ask you what that building was over there," corrected Kurt as he pointed to the glass-like structure in the distance. Relaxing slightly, the woman stopped throwing the breadcrumbs and followed his arm towards the building. "I've never seen it before and I wondered if_"

"Don't tell me – you're a tourist… Well, that's the Puckerman Tower. It even says so on the side; what, are you illiterate?" The woman scoffed but Kurt ignored her in favor of analyzing what he'd just heard.

Puckerman. The name sounded familiar. _Well, of course it does,_ went his brain as it racked his mind to snap back into reality. The Puckerman Corporation was one of the largest conglomerates in the world. You'd have to be living under a rock or have a severe case of extreme narcissism to have not heard of the name.

"Thanks," Kurt replied, quickly walking away from the old hag as she resumed feeding her so called 'babies' but not before she threw him an annoyed look behind his back. Thankfully he didn't notice. Who would want to see her face for much longer?

As Kurt made his way back to his apartment, his attention returned once again to Puckerman or, rather, The Puckerman Conglomerate. The corporation practically owned its own version of everything and had made its name as well as its billions in the fashion, cosmetic, pharmaceutical, entertainment, military and auto industries and that was only the tip of the gigantic iceberg. What was impressive was that, not only were they well respected for kick-starting a struggling economy and saving many from destitution, but they had only come onto the scene 40 years ago. In that short space of time, not only had they managed to dwarf many successful companies the likes of Exxon Mobil, Walmart and Vitol in terms of revenue and employees but as a result, they had managed to bring the whole world down to their feet. In a non-evil way of course, Kurt added internally.

News of the company and its various high-profile accomplishments as well as its recent activity would regularly appear on TV and in the papers. However, it wasn't so much the company that the media really seemed to focus their attention on, but the actual family itself. Thomas Puckerman, the founder of the company or the 'genius in the iron black suit' as he was most commonly referred to by many, had been known for being a ruthless businessman and not a kind-hearted soul. He had been hated and feared by many of his rivals as they battled one another for the top spot, a spot he later won and would have enjoyed if he hadn't died in the gruesome car crash of 2002. Kurt had only been eight at the time and had had his eyes shielded by his shocked father when horrific images of the accident surfaced on the news. Management, it was later released, had been given to Mr. Puckerman's associates who, up until this day, ruthlessly ruled the company.

Thomas's wife, Emily Puckerman, unlike her husband, didn't know squat about business. In fact, she had once been a beauty queen, competing in notable competitions nationally including the Miss Universe, Miss USA and Miss America beauty contests, before the up and coming businessman had proposed to her back in the early Eighties. Kurt had seen footage and images of the enchanting and magnificent Plaza wedding on the internet and by God they didn't describe it that way for nothing. It literally looked like something out of a fairytale and it should have done, considering Puckerman had spent an absolute fortune on the day: twenty five million dollars. _I mean, seriously, where do these people get their money from? There's got to be some sort of tree out there dishing it out!_ _  
_

While Mrs. Puckerman continued to live a life of luxury and pleasure, her children Noah, Jake and Sarah Puckerman were all still in school. Sarah was ten years old, meaning she had unfortunately only known her father a few months after her birth before his death. Jake was fifteen and was at the moment attending high school in the city and, finally, Noah was twenty and was currently studying part-time at Harvard University, though what he was studying eluded Kurt. _Most likely business_ , he pondered. It was a safe enough assumption. Following that, it was suspected that once Noah graduated, he would become the CEO of the company and take up his father's place, but Kurt didn't know for sure. Nothing apparently had been set in stone. However, Sarah and Jake, because of their young ages, didn't really capture the media's attention unlike Noah. If Kurt had a dime for every time he'd read or seen stories and pictures on the topic of the Puckerman scion, he'd swear he'd be as wealthy as the family itself.

Noah Puckerman was a very handsome, tanned, athletic young man who was notorious for his over-indulgent lifestyle as well as his promiscuous behavior with various high-profile women, with some more notable than others. The legendary stories of his escapades and frequent visits to the Hamptons where all-night parties and other questionable activities would take place were the talk of the town and, as a result, he was often nicknamed by the press, 'The Party-Rocking Puckerman' and 'The Sleepless Badass Badboy.'

Kurt had to snort in derision as he turned onto his street. What a ridiculous name to be referred to, he thought as he remembered how Noah's parties were reputed for making Satanism look like a bar mitzvah, whilst their hunky host chased every single orifice no matter where it was on the body. _I mean,_ Kurt sneered, _it's bad enough the media naming you 'New York City's ultimate resident womanizer' before they start nicknaming you other ludicrous titles. People need to get themselves a life._

_Superstar where you from, how's it going?_  
_I know you got a clue what you're doing_  
_You can play brand new to all the other chicks out here_  
_But I know what you are, what you are, baby..._

Britney Spears' 'Womanizer' popped into Kurt's head as he walked down his street, a little hop in his step. He'd seen the music video and the artist's low-energy performance of the song more than one hundred times and had practically learned the moves from it instantly, recreating some of them as he journeyed.

_Look at you getting more than just a re-up_  
_Baby you got all the puppets with their strings up_  
_Faking like a good one but I call them like I see them_  
_I know what you are, what you are, baby..._

Kurt really had to compliment Britney on this tune. It was 2008's girl anthem with a great hook, melody and empowering lyrics, and he could remember some of the more lady-killing jocks at his school not being at all impressed with the single when it was released. _Could this song really be any more suitable at this moment_ , he thought as he began climbing his apartment steps, his light dancing never ceasing even when the risk of falling increased. _Oh I don't think so!_

_Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you're a womanizer,_  
_Oh womanizer, oh you're a womanizer, baby_  
_You, you, you are, you, you, you are_  
_Womanizer, womanizer, womanizer..._

As he entered his apartment building and checked his mail, one of his neighbors passed him with a small smile on her face before continuing to walk on. Back in Lima, if he was heard singing a very feminist song then not only would he have received a set of strange looks but most likely a beating as well. He'd had to keep his mouth shut, eyes alert and ears pricked at all times in that town, and if you didn't have peripheral vision at your disposal, you were nothing more than easy prey. Simple. However, now that he was in the city, it seemed like an ordinary thing to do, there was nothing strange about it. New York had seen it all. _My love for this place is definitely growing…_

_Boy don't try to front I know just what you are-are-are_  
_Boy don't try to front I know just what you are-are-are_  
_You got me going, you're oh so charming_  
_But I can't do it, you womanizer..._

Kurt made his way up the stairs to his apartment door before letting himself in, dumping some his mail on the hall table as he did. He didn't know whether he wanted to shower or not. Spending time in the fresh air as well as doing some light exercise had done him good but due to the heat, his body had begun to show light beads of sweat across his forehead as well as other areas, and sweat was just not a look he rocked. Finally deciding on a relaxing rinse in the bathtub, he continued singing under his breath, his voice coming out as a breathy whisper more than anything else.

'Womanizer' just seemed to be a perfect route for his annoyance for the media's obsession with Noah Puckerman. They were just obsessed with every single measly footstep he took and if they continued they'd no doubt end up killing him somehow, just like his father, and just like every other celebrity victim of the camera. No greater lie other than 'the camera is your friend' could ever have been fabricated in these circumstances. Though it still didn't eliminate the source of the paparazzi's attention, and how he wielded it recklessly with his large, tanned hands. _We all know what you are, Mr. Puckerman..._

_Boy don't try to front I know just what you are-are-are_  
_Boy don't try to front I know just what you are-are-are_  
_You say I'm crazy, I got your crazy_  
_You're nothing but a Womanizer_

As Kurt fell lazily onto his bed, the afternoon air wafting in through the windows, he pondered what the Big Apple had in store for him. He'd possibly try and find the filming locations for the Sex and the City TV series and perhaps try and spot himself a celebrity. After all, who knew what he would discover in the vast city of opportunities. There was even the chance of meeting the Puckerman tycoon himself, though the probability of such an event happening was as likely as Kurt touching water only for it turn into gummy bear juice. _Never going to happen_ , Kurt thought as he stared once more at the ceiling, his senses overcome by the smell of fresh linen and summertime, a fresh apartment and a fresh set of opportunities waiting like delectable Easter eggs in the concrete jungle that was the city. _Bring it on, New York..._


	3. The Monarch Theater

It was Monday morning, and it was the first day of Kurt's work experience. The air was crisp as always and the sun was taking its time to slowly heat up the streets of Manhattan. The city's roads began to once again reacquaint themselves with traffic and New York pulled in its first big breath. However, it wasn't the only one. Kurt stood rooted to the sidewalk, his feet together and his hand clenched tightly to his little man-bag hanging over his shoulder and across his chest. Looking up at the miserable-looking theater standing before him, he couldn't help but judge it critically.

The building had obviously been around for some time as its appearance was anything but impressive, with rusted metal lining the windows and dingy off-white paint that seemed to peel and fall to the ground before him. Well, at least it doesn't look like it's going to collapse on top of me, Kurt thought as he surveyed the poorly maintained yet strong and sturdy-looking structure. If it does, then at least I'll die in a place where Stanislavski would have been proud. Lowering his gaze to his watch, Kurt read the time. It was 9 a.m. and he was set to start any minute.

With a disappointed yet hesitant sigh, the brunet entered the building and walked briskly towards the booking office. A red-headed, middle-aged woman with a kind face and rectangular glasses that he thought had become extinct in this day and age raised her head to the sound of the large door banging loudly back into place. _Dammit!_ Kurt thought, wincing as the echo easily carried through the grand foyer like a gunshot. _That's probably created cracks in the ceiling now._ The woman, despite wincing at the disturbance but viewing the small spectacle with amusement, proceeded to giggle and flash him a friendly smile.

"Don't worry about the door, honey," she said comfortingly as Kurt switched his gaze from the door to her and smiled nervously, his fingers anxiously fiddling with his jumper. Was he going to be known now as the boy with no special awareness or the boy with no co-ordination whatsoever? Probably, but then again anything was better than the names he'd been called in high school. "First timer's mistake."

"Well, in any case I apologize for having startled you. If I'd known I would have been more careful," Kurt apologized but wondered why a sign hadn't been erected to warn visitors of such a disgruntled door. It was only courteous to the poor receptionist who probably had to experience such a bang every single time it closed, maybe even by people who knew of its violent nature. Glancing back at it with a critical eye, Kurt took in the door's appearance. The once detailed and opulent oak carvings that he assumed would have looked magnificent in its heyday now only resembled an intricate mess as he shook his head in pity, before taking in the sight of the simplistic white marble foyer around him.

"It's all right, sweetie," the woman replied pleasantly as she brought a hand up to rub her still ringing ear. "Just as long as you don't let it happen again, you'll always be on my good side. Now, what can I do for you today?"

At this, Kurt pulled his eyes from the room's faded décor before shuffling quickly towards the desk, adjusting his blood red Lacoste bag nervously around his torso as he did.

"Did you have an appointment or meeting set up with anyone from the theater today or…?"

"My name is Kurt Hummel. I'm the new runner for the production this year," Kurt corrected as he quickly unzipped his bag, pulled out a set of documents that had been neatly protected in a transparent sleeve and handed them over to the receptionist.

There he stood patiently as she analyzed her way through every single piece of paper, flicking over them and scanning every filled out form that Kurt had accurately completed. Thankfully there weren't many of them, but she was occupied long enough for Kurt to once again reacquaint himself with the discolored décor around him. "I don't know whether we spoke over the phone but I applied around two months ago. I've been in contact with the theatre through email, which is how they sent me the forms. Um… I think the date should be on there somewhere. If not it should be_"

"Ah, yes," the receptionist nodded, pointing to a specific document towards the front before placing them all down on the desk. After organizing them back into the sleeve and putting them aside, she pulled out a name tag from a side drawer, scribbled down Kurt's name before handing it over to him, a smile on her face.

 _Wow, that's neat_ , thought the brunet as he admired the woman's elegant handwriting, the small loops here and there and the perfect crafting of each letter giving the tag a sense of superiority, as if it had been plucked straight from a high-class dinner table at The Ritz. Pinning the tag (that made him feel as tall as a mouse) to his ivory lace sweater, Kurt looked back up at the woman expectantly, his nervous smile rendering him that much more innocent-looking.

"My name is Martha. I'm the Monarch Theater's receptionist and booking agent so if you have any queries, I'm the girl to come to, okay?"

Martha smiled as she grinned warmly back up at Kurt, reassuring him that bit more that whenever he needed help in the future, there would at least be one friendly face to confide in. It probably helped that Martha was the first person that people met when they entered this place. She was like the light in the dark room, a friendly-looking woman who managed to illuminate a dismal looking foyer into something out from the heavens. "I'll be right here if you need me so don't be hesitant to ask me anything."

"Thank you... Martha," Kurt breathed as he threw her a parting smile before turning around and climbing the grand staircase, if you could call it grand anymore, that is. The iron banister grillwork and ormolu garlands that seemed to have been inspired by the French court of Louis XIV had paled to a dull grey/peach color, whilst the paneling and woodwork that had no doubt been polished down by master craftsmen now only seemed to scream for days gone by.

As Kurt entered the impressively large auditorium, he was met with architecture very similar to classic Art Deco, a design style characterized by the combination of the traditional craft motifs with Machine Age imagery and materials. He'd been trying to place the eclectic look ever since he'd entered the theater and now that he'd pinpointed its primary influence, he now began to notice the rich colors, bold geometric shapes and lavish ornamentation of everything around him. Despite its aged appearance, the beauty still shone through.

Bustling folk were scattered about the auditorium with some shouting out instructions to a group of dancers that were making their way onstage, the loose clothing they were all sporting allowing them more freedom as they began stretching impressively. Towards the front, remaining cast and crew members were relaxing in the seats, with some absent-mindedly munching on their breakfasts whilst others played meaningless rounds of card games.

The atmosphere did, indeed, seem carefree and cheerful but, of course, all of that was ruined by one man with a voice so loud, opera singers would be envious. Shouting rudely through an amplifier, the man of little height with a stomach of muffin top proportions directed the dancers into their positions as the set designers rapidly scurried off stage, their bodies trembling as they disappeared into the ranks. _Looks like my thick skin will come in handy again_ , thought Kurt as he noticed who he assumed was the director, shoving people out of the way as he stormed towards the edge of the stage.

"Cue music!" The director’s bellow had the dancers throwing each other nervous glances before the lights dimmed and the music commenced.

Quickly sitting himself down in the seat nearest to him, Kurt began to watch the performance, the melody of Tulisa's 'Young' pumping through the speakers as the dancers began moving their bodies vigorously to the music, all of them perfectly synchronized. The blinding lights were back on and they illuminated every single performer but due to the sheer brightness and intensity, Kurt had to blink to force his eyes to readjust to the sight.

He'd not been on a stage since May and it was a sad thing to admit. He'd missed the theatricality of it all, the action that bustled onstage and even though he wasn't there to perform, being surrounded by drama itself was bound to invigorate his senses into overcoming his NYADA rejection. After all, it did seem like part of the New York welcome package.

However, despite the almost accurate dancing with the odd slip-up here and there accompanied by a painful insult from the director, Kurt had to admit that the performance wasn't the best piece of dancing he'd ever seen. None of the performers onstage looked as if they shared a shred of chemistry with one another. It was as if every single one of them had been plucked from obscurity, crammed together and made to perform choreography after only an hour's practice. Despite all this, though, the whole thing wasn't the worst he'd ever seen either. He didn't know if this performance or number was actually part of the production. If it was, then it could only mean that a musical was not in the midst of rehearsal, meaning he was in the wrong place. _Crap_ , Kurt thought as he began to fret that he was set to undertake the wrong work experience. _I'm in the wrong theatre!_

Rising out of his seat with the intention of discussing his vital mistake with Martha, Kurt stopped suddenly as a large hand landed abruptly on his small shoulder. The brunet froze. His eyes widened and he looked down at the hand that had prevented him from leaving before raising his gaze to see its owner.

His wide eyes took in a rather good-looking, well-built man with gelled brown hair that had been neatly styled into a small Elvis-like Pompadour. He was wearing a simple charcoal-colored shirt with its sleeves rolled up and his top buttons had been undone to allow a view of his masculine neck to show. Accompanying the ensemble were a pair of dark blue Levi jeans and beige boots that looked as if they had been anchored to the ground in a bold stance.

 _Wow_ , thought Kurt as the man looked down at him curiously with grey-tinted eyes. _Do excuse me, Indiana Jones._

"Excuse me; are you meant to be here? This is a private rehearsal. No one but the cast and crew are allowed to be here at this time," the man said sternly as Kurt gulped, his body shifting away as he wracked his brain desperately for an answer.

He couldn't believe how naive and shy he'd become since moving here. Back in high school, nothing would have been able to break his ice queen exterior but everything around him now was stripping him fresh, baring everything and hopefully rebuilding him into someone new, someone who wasn't going to freak out at a single statement from an attractive man. "Look, I'm afraid I have no choice but to ask you to leave."

"Oh no, I'm supposed to be here," Kurt replied honestly, taking a step towards the man and looking straight into his face. Removing his hand from the brunet's shoulder, the man made to place it back into his pocket only for it to be snatched up by Kurt and shaken gently but firmly. "I'm Kurt Hummel, the theater's new runner… See?"

Kurt swiftly pointed to his tag which underneath his neatly written name had 'Runner' in small font, causing the man to squint as he peered at it. Kurt didn't blame him for not noticing it at first glance. It was hardly noticeable, what with the lights dimmed in the stalls, and it really didn't help one's eyesight no matter how good it was. Continuing to peer down at the tag with difficulty, the man finally straightened up and blinked, a grin starting to surface on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't see it. The lighting's kind of low around here. I'm Carlson, member of the cast. You must be new to this job as runners don't usually sit in seats and watch everyone else at work," Carlson replied as Kurt bit his lip nervously. However, the man's voice didn't come off as serious, harsh or condescending in any way but more amused, a kind of light-heartedness that seemed to soften any harsh edges his words may have had.

Smiling back in gratitude, Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad he'd come across a second friendly face, even if it had been more of a struggle due to a complication. Everything now was out in the clear.

"I'm sorry. I'm new to the city and it's just a lot to take in. Plus I've literally just signed in. It took me fifteen minutes to get through your labyrinth of a neighborhood," Kurt explained, motioning to the large auditorium as well as the direction to the foyer. He hoped Carlson would understand or at least take pity on his situation. Getting lost when he'd left his apartment had almost ignited a massive panic attack and it wasn't until he'd rested on a bench and breathed like he’d run for his life, that he'd sought the help of a supportive New Yorker for directions. "I was just admiring the dancers on stage. They're… good."

"You needn't stick up for them, they suck," Carlson laughed as he threw an amused glance towards the stage where the director was by this point in time, throwing mountainous insult after insult at one of the dancers who had tripped over her own feet and violently tumbled off the stage.

 _Ouch! That's got to hurt_ , thought Kurt as he observed how rigid the performers had now become, their faces screwed so tight that they now resembled patients of Botox surgery gone wrong. "I mean, only a handful are pros whilst the others are merely novices. By the look on your face I can tell you agree the two don't mix," Carlson explained.

"I've seen worse, don't worry," Kurt assured him as he shifted his eyes away from Carlson to the stage where the fallen dancer had managed to get back on her feet, stumble towards the nearest seat and slump herself in its cushioned comfort. There she clutched at her painful ankle as she attempted to nurse it back to health with what looked like a damp towel. Poor thing. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask if… if this is part of the production, or if it’s just_"

"No, it's merely a warm-up for the dancers. It gets them thoroughly warmed up for some of the more complicated routines we have in the show," Carlson explained casually but stopped when he noticed the blank expression on Kurt's face.

This was bad. The pale boy was about to start performing people's errands for the year, start doing what he had been signed up for and everything, yet he didn't even know what production was being put on. It only made Carlson think Kurt was lucky they’d met sooner rather than later. Who knew if the brunet would survive as little as a day in the director's 'Theatre of Cruelty'. "We're doing 'Wicked' this year, didn't you know? You ought to have been told by now, at least by Martha."

"No, I was never informed," Kurt admitted, as he shrugged, before grinning a set of pearly teeth back at Carlson. "However, that isn't bad news to me at all. ‘Wicked’ is one of my favorite musicals! I've got the CD, the DVD, I've seen the play and I even snuck into the theater to sing on the stage when I was last in New York. No one was around, of course, and it was great, but then someone burst in on me singing 'Popular' and shushed me off. Though they gave me the evils, it was totally worth it."

As Kurt ranted excitedly on about his past with much enthusiasm, Carlson listened intently. He'd never come across anyone who talked about ‘Wicked’ with this much passion before, mostly because all of his friends and colleagues lived in the Broadway capital of the world, and that musicals like ‘Wicked’ were staged nearly all the time.

It wasn't shocking. In fact, it was hard to shock anyone in this town. New Yorkers were known to be the most jaded people around, which made it all the more surprising when Carlson found himself enraptured with Kurt's excitement. The boy was obviously a huge fan and usually the greatest fans of anything often turned out to be the wackiest of them all; there was nothing crazy-looking about this one, just golden eagerness. Just the way Kurt's angelic face lit up, the way his sapphire eyes glinted, it would have been impossible for anyone not to have seen the young runner's joy for the production, and what a bonnie runner he was.

"I would be in my second year of university right now if I hadn't decided to do this instead. I preferred to head right into the industry and just get a taste of it all. What you're doing now will be hugely beneficial to you," Carlson said as Kurt nodded, once again biting his lip as if he were attempting to note down the piece of advice in his brain. It sure was adorable and the taller man couldn't help but smile at the boy's trained focus. "If you can sing, act, dance and you know are you good at it, make sure to make yourself known. Don't waste time, talent or looks in this industry because, before you know it, they'll be gone, and regret is one hell of a bitch.

“So, I'm telling you now, Kurt. Even if you're a runner, it doesn't mean you can't continue reaching for the position you really want. Seriously. I don't know if you can sing in tune, act convincingly or dance better than those potatoes up there but one thing I can tell you is you've got the looks. That's a pretty eye-catching face you got there, Kurt."

"Really? You think so? I would have thought the talent would outweigh everything. Even if show business is no better than Hollywood in terms of superficiality," Kurt replied innocently as he looked back at Carlson's smirking face.

He didn't get it. Was this man coming on to him? Was he even gay? He didn't know but it was an inappropriate time, not to mention completely alien. This would mark the first occasion he'd been flirted with since Blaine and it really felt nice, but he wasn't going to let that consume his thoughts. He was here to do a job and a fine job at that.

"Well, thanks, anyway. I guess it's only polite if I return the compliment by saying… you are very attractive yourself."

"Thanks, Kurt. Most straight guys feel uneasy when other guys compliment them on their looks but I'm not like that. You can't afford to be. You have to have an open mind when most guys in show business aren't into the women they sing to," answered Carlson as Kurt's mouth gaped in horror. Bringing his hands to his mouth, the brunet gasped at how he'd just embarrassed himself, Carlson wincing as the boy's pale cheeks flushed the shade of strawberry red.

To Kurt, Carlson may have claimed he hadn't a problem when being admired by men but what if he was just saying that? What if he was lying? Not wanting to wait for a punch to the gut, Kurt attempted to excuse himself but was stopped when the taller man took hold of his hand and stopped him, his face slightly worried.

"No, no, no, Kurt. You needn't feel ashamed or anything. Being complimented on my looks by the prettiest boy I've seen in my life… How could I not like that?"

"Prettiest boy you've ever… oh, so you're now an actor and a comedian. Could have fooled me, you're good," laughed Kurt as Carlson let go of his hand. It seemed to him that the brunet hadn't believed him for a second. True it could be misconstrued in anyone's eyes as a compliment to repair the damage of not telling Kurt his sexuality sooner, even if the boy had merely said he was good-looking, but that wasn't the case. Kurt really was pretty. A pretty boy who lacked in self-confidence. Figures.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. It seems a bit much that's all. It's just that I doubt I would have been able to get away with telling some boy at my high school he was cute without leaving with a black eye."

"Well, believe me, this place is plenty full of acceptance. Who knows, you might have a boyfriend by the end of the month. Anything is possible in the city, I'm telling ya," replied Carlson happily, his wide smile lessening as Kurt scoffed in derision. Geez, this kid really had no self-belief regarding his appearance whatsoever.

For all Carlson knew, Kurt could have been playing the 'fishing for compliments' card or some other lame game to feed his ego but that wasn't it. There was no ego to feed. All there was was a cheerless glint in Kurt's eyes that seemed to have acted as a tsunami. It had washed away the fire of excitement which had burned at the news of them performing ‘Wicked’ and nothing was left but damp debris. Nothing.  
Determined to solve this problem once and for all, Carlson swiftly obscured the brunet's view, lowered his head and pressed his lips to Kurt's.

Silence.

There they stood, kissing each other with no one in the theater even batting an eyelid. Of course, Kurt couldn't see anything with his eyes having fluttered closed with surprise. He’d let out a little squeak in shock, but he gladly took in the welcome package that clearly had written on it, 'hot man with bonus hot kiss'.

After absorbing a strange, scrumptious taste of butter pecan and vanilla, Carlson brought his head away and looked back at the boy with a stern look, Kurt's eyes slowly opening once again from the ended kiss.

"Look, Kurt. Believe me when I say you are attractive. See, even I had to get a taste of that pretty little pout."

"I... well I..." stumbled Kurt as he blinked profusely at what had just happened. Already a kiss from a man, a straight man! He really wasn't doing too badly here was he? As his surprise ebbed and a grateful smile surfaced, Kurt could only giggle like a little school boy given candy as Carlson returned the grin. The man's plan seemed to have worked like a treat and as both of them looked over at the stage, the song nearly ending as the dancers prepared themselves for the finale, they smiled.

Neither of their attention was on the performance but simply on the feeling of having made a new friend, a record time for the brunet as his grin refused to budge. "Thanks, Carlson, you're really too kind... also, your stubble tickled my chin."

"STOP! Stop this crap right now before the floorboards willingly give way to your graves!"

The director’s bark brought Carlson and Kurt's smiles to an abrupt end. The music halted, the poor dancers froze and everyone solemnly turned their heads towards the fuming short man who looked like nothing more than a fat hobbit on a temper tantrum.

In many respects he resembled in character, a male version of McKinley High School's cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester. A woman so consumed by the forces of evil that it was reputed she stirred her tea with children's fingers and wore a necklace of their teeth underneath her tracksuit. _Oh, how I loathed that woman_ , thought Kurt as he tilted his head to the side and squinted, his eyes still focused on the fuming director. He didn't really need a dragon man in his life now that the dragon lady was thousands of miles away, but he'd survived the first round. He could put up with the male equivalent.

"Wow. If you do this long enough his head kind of looks like a baked potato..." muttered Kurt and was snapped out his trance by the sounds of Carlson chuckling. Blushing, the boy's face flushed a light shade of scarlet as he too burst into giggles, their amusement spurring each other on. "Yeah, I tend to mutter my train of thought aloud on occasions. It's one of my more embarrassing qualities."

Kurt had never been able to fully resolve this personal problem, no matter how many times it got him into trouble. Whether it had been handed down by his father or mother he didn't know, but he hoped that one day it would be of use to him when the time arose.

"I think it's cute," admitted Carlson, recovering slowly from his chuckling fit as the pale boy looked back at him wide-eyed. Suddenly urging Kurt forward with his hand in the curve of the brunet's back, Carlson began directing both of them towards the still-fuming director, the hilarity in Kurt's eyes once again drowning as fear overruled his mind. "Come, let me introduce the two of you."

"Oh no, I don't think so," Kurt disagreed as he stopped walking immediately, his heels digging so hard into the floor Carlson almost walked into him. "The dwarf looks like he's about to blow any minute now."

Laughing, the taller man let out a deep, attractive chuckle that carried itself effortlessly around the large auditorium, but before Kurt could take advantage of the distraction and escape the upcoming meeting; he was once again being led towards danger in human form.

"Hey, Gordon!" Carlson’s call captured the attention of the director and he whipped around furiously to face them, his blood-red megaphone at his mouth as if it were ready and waiting to break another set of innocent ear drums. "Come meet our new runner!"

Piercing dark eyes bore into Kurt's with such strength and intensity that the boy could no longer feel his legs let alone the growing dampness of his sweating ass, and as he neared his new boss, he was just about to introduce himself with an extended hand when the megaphone found itself in his face, its depths ready and waiting to devour him whole. _Shit!_


	4. Model

_Popular, you're going to be popular_  
_I'll teach you the proper poise when you talk to boys, little ways to flirt and flounce_  
_I'll show you what shoes to wear, how to fix your hair_  
_Everything that really counts to be popu-_

Slam! Kurt brought his hand down hard onto his retro iPod alarm dock before moaning to himself, his arm coming to his wincing eyes as the bright sunshine of Tuesday morning bore into his room like nothing else. It was about time he bought himself some real curtains. The flimsy ones he had at the moment, though modern looking and stylish, were so sheer that they did absolutely nothing to at least soften the light as it came streaming in. However, in that moment he realized how many times he'd walked past that window in the evening with the lights on with only underwear for coverage. _Ooops_ , he thought as he removed his arm from over his eyes in favor of his thick cream duvet, his sight now blocked from the rays. _Well, at least the neighbors know I've settled in well._

Monday's work experience had not gone as well or as smoothly as Kurt would have liked. Gordon, the nasty theater director, had attempted to make every minute of his first day at work a hellish nightmare, working him solidly to the bone and swamping him with errands which half the time weren't any use to anyone. Tasks like fetching brain food for various members of the female cast in the form of wheat germ and grass juice was just an example of what he'd been ordered to do, and to this hour he could still hear the shouting sessions he'd received to the point where he swore the flesh from Gordon's face was going to melt right off, like some 'Hell on Earth' attraction one only witnessed in horror films.

He'd learned the hard way that the hobbit-sized director wasn't happy or at least content unless everyone around him was panicked, nauseous or suicidal or, in some unfortunate souls, all three. No one had been spared from his vicious mouth with the victim toll having risen to a high of twenty by the time the day had ended. Kurt was amazed some kind of social revolution hadn't already strapped him on a guillotine and chopped his head off. _It would take more than one fall of the blade to slice through that fat neck_ , Kurt thought maliciously as he borrowed deeper into his soft bed. _Even then there's no guarantee the device wouldn't come off worse._

Later that afternoon, after a grueling set of hours meant to match the strain of nineteenth century workhouse boys, Kurt had been allowed to leave around six with Carlson, his newfound friend, walking him home. The man had claimed that he'd not wanted Kurt returning by himself, worrying whether he would actually survive the trek alone after his supremely awful day. It was a fair thing to be concerned, especially after Kurt had ominously 'joked' earlier on about travelling to Grand Central Terminal just to jump onto the railroad tracks and get killed by an express train, anything to ease Gordon's torture. However, it wasn't until they were half-way to the brunet's apartment that their path had been blocked by a large crowd that had gathered in front of the largest of the city's theaters, the Radio City Music Hall.

Powerful spotlights that had been constructed on the rooftops, giving the whole event an air of Roaring Twenties and Jazz Age glamor, had been directed into the night, illuminating the clouds above like giant lighthouses for the sky. Screaming fans alongside flashing paparazzi, busy journalists and chatting interviewers were crowded around what Kurt could only make out as a rich red carpet that stretched from the road all the way up to the entrance of the theater. This only meant one thing. This whole occasion was a movie premiere but of what movie Kurt didn't know or care. His interest had been long stolen by the possibility of celebrity sightings and the famous faces that appeared from within the sleek black limousines, the cars' heavy coats of chic black paint reflecting the millions of lights dazzling all around.

"Damn my height, I can't see a thing," complained Kurt as he struggled to regain his precious view of the premiere after someone had annoyingly blocked it from in front. The small crowd of people on their side of the pavement was already increasing in mass after about five minutes. This led to Kurt wondering how on Earth they were ever going to escape from its confines before it turned into some music concert mosh pit from a heavy metal tour. "I'm not really appreciating the sight of a back in my face."

"Here, sit on my shoulders," proposed Carlson as he offered his hand to Kurt, the pale boy looking around nervously with a worried expression on his face as he pondered the offer. He wasn't entirely sure such an action would receive kind gazes from behind, seeing as resting on Carlson's shoulders would result in other people's view being obscured.

"It's okay, Kurt, I'll be strong enough to hold you and I'll make sure not to let you fall. I promise," Carlson encouraged as a smirk appeared on his lips. Kurt had no doubt the man could keep him supported what with his shoulders that looked as if they belonged on a football player, but that wasn't what he was worried about. Finally giving into the gentlemanly offer and his need to see a celebrity, Kurt accepted Carlson's hand and he swiftly proceeded to lift him. Before he knew it, the brunet was sitting comfortably on his friend's shoulders, his vision now clear and free as a bird's as he could now see what exactly was going on.

A large poster of Sam Mendes' latest action movie and the twenty-third James Bond film, 'Skyfall', loomed over the premiere as the actors and accompanying celebrities strutted their way along the famous carpet to the theater's doors, posing, giving interviews and signing autographs as they journeyed. _Damn it! This is the second time I forgot my camera,_ thought Kurt as he kicked himself for abandoning his head in the clouds. _What is wrong with me?_

Feeling Carlson suddenly adjust his position on his shoulders, Kurt glanced down at him with pity. He didn't want the man to have to stay home tomorrow due to back problems. It wasn't fair on the ones who had to go in and endure the Gordon Ramsey of theater. No, Kurt was not going to allow that to happen on his watch. Announcing that he'd had enough of the view and that it was high time for them to head home, Kurt instructed Carlson to put him down. However ,that was before an ear-splitting scream from fans nearby brought his head right back up to attention, his eyes searching widely for the source of the newfound excitement.

Stepping out of a gorgeous limousine that had recently pulled up was none other than New York City's very own young Casanova, Noah Puckerman. Kurt could only gape at the sight as his eyes widened to cartoon proportions as he observed the tanned man flashing a smile worth a million dollars. Never before had he seen the notorious lady-killer in the flesh but what he saw before him, with the Golden Hollywood theme in the background giving off a perfect setting for the man who could have outshone even Daniel Craig himself, he liked a lot.

Noah was wearing an exquisitely tailored Calvin Klein tuxedo with a fully lined three button jacket which only served to further show off his muscular build very nicely. Single-pleated pants with an elegant satin side stripe clothed his lower half and, to finish off, the look was completed with polished black shoes that seemed to give the limousines' shining coats a run for their money. Hair-wise, the mohawk Noah had been sporting throughout his high school career had long been freshly shaved to reveal a handsome buzz cut that gave him a more mature appearance, an appearance that not only boasted a well-shaped head but also enhanced his sex appeal.

However, as soon as Noah exited the car, he smirked invitingly at every female onlooker within a mile radius and then he whipped around and helped a beautiful blonde woman out of the limo and onto the carpet. She was dressed in a flowing red silk dress by Lanvin that fluttered ethereally in the evening breeze.

 _Red for red carpet? Seriously?_ Kurt snarked internally as he criticized the woman's personal stylist and the source of her credentials. _She's just a walking head._ He watched as Noah snaked a large hand around the girl's waist and they both sauntered up the carpet with the blonde bombshell snuggling romantically up close to him as they posed in front of the press. The woman's delighted laughter could be heard even over the shouts of the photographers.

"Who is she? The woman with Noah Puckerman," Kurt asked Carlson, surveying the couple with focused eyes as they floated their way up the carpet, the aura they emanated supporting the boy's opinion that they were undoubtedly the best-looking couple there. However, he hadn't seen the blonde before in any of the gossip magazines or newspapers around. Not once had he seen her face. Then again, he hadn't read trashy publications for months now, citing the journalism as too intellectually inferior for those having graduated with top marks in literature.

Shifting his position to obtain a clearer view, Carlson himself attempted to catch a glimpse of the grinning couple. He tightened his grip on Kurt as the brunet swayed ever so slightly from the move. The last thing they wanted was Kurt falling onto the filthy sidewalk below.

"That's Quinn Fabray, his new fiancée," Carlson replied drily, the enthusiasm in his face now waning as he realized who they were looking at. "Yeah, Puckerman popped the question a few weeks ago and the press went wild, as they do when trillionaires propose marriage to hot babes."

Smiling to himself, Kurt looked down once again at the top of his friend's head. He'd discovered earlier that day when the two of them had had lunch together in Central Park that Carlson had never understood the hype surrounding the personal lives of the rich and famous. He'd used the excuse 'they were merely humans after all' to dismiss the topic in favor of new subjects more invigorating to the mind, like women fighting in Jell-O or women pillow-fighting in only skimpy underwear. Scratch that, the definition of 'invigorating' was the only thing that had been dumbed down. _Men…_

"All I can say is that she must be a real fireball in bed if Puckerman's settling so early on in the game," Carlson continued. "I mean he looks seriously whipped when he looks at her; look."

Gesturing to the pair as they turned to enter the cinema, Kurt followed Carlson's pointed finger and glanced towards the theater doors. Noah's bright smile had indeed never faltered with his eyes ninety percent of the time always finding their way back to his fine future bride, but something wasn't quite right. Kurt didn't know what it was and he certainly couldn't pinpoint it but as he inspected the couple more closely, his eyes squinting to near slits, he shook his head in dismissal. _No, it almost looks... staged_.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Kurt rose groggily from his bed and set about undergoing his arduous morning routine of cleansing his body and mind. After yesterday evening's surprise event, he wasn't about to forget his camera yet again. Who knew what today could bring, possibly acrobats or stilt walkers on the streets or even romantic gestures as simple as offering a seat to someone on the subway? It all sounded very well until the thought of spying on Gordon with surveillance equipment came to mind. Kurt would have dirt on that horrid man in no time, that was for sure.

Clothing himself in a Timberwolf grey turtle neck sweater and milk white skinny jeans, Kurt grabbed his baby blue bag and hurried out into the city. The weather's warmth had not dissipated since yesterday; in fact the sidewalk still felt a little warm even through his plimsolls. He really hadn't been anticipating such heat. All the city could offer to save those from frying on the road were soothing breezes that could often bring along the chill factor on occasions. It really was a matter of extremes. _Let another beautiful day go to waste as I begin my second day in hell,_ Kurt thought as with a hop off the pavement and a round of the corner, he found himself once again in front of the Monarch Theater's doors.

The work experience itself wasn't actually that bad when he came to think about it. It was just Gordon. He presumed now that the director had instilled fear into him, the torturous tasks would lessen to menial little jobs like fetching tea or coffee, running errands out to local stores and assisting members of the crew. It sounded about right and it's what he signed up for, but he just hoped that when everything was done and completed, he wouldn't attempt to approach anyone before forcing them to get him to do something. Nothing he assumed could be more annoying than a pesky little runner on your back. Then again, he didn't want to be sitting around doing nothing all day.

Kurt's knowledge of Broadway had almost tripled even after one day. He'd taken in so much more than he had in his measly drama classes back in high school and the research he'd done on the internet, that it was just mind-boggling. The secrets, the drama, the truth, everything was just fascinating. However, he supposed nothing was as good as taking an inside look into the business. In fact, nothing was as good, period. Entering the theater and casually greeting Martha with a 'good morning, rise and survive' wasn't enough to uproot the thoughts of his now-blossoming theater knowledge tree and as he retreated to the dressing rooms towards the back of the building, his head was still perched high up in the clouds to even pull a face at the run down sight of it all.

The dressing rooms, unlike any other ones Kurt had come across in the past, looked nothing more than high-end Roaring Twenties brothel chambers. Aging red velvet, the smell of expensive yet erotic perfume and the countless rows of old Hollywood vanities with their oversized yellow and dusty bulbs surrounding the mirrors graced the large room. The sight always reminded Kurt of old-time glamor, money and lingerie. There were still hints of the Art Deco style peeking through symmetrical designs on the walls and ceiling but generally this had been the ultimate lipstick-lathering, powder-facing and diva attitude-ridden honeypot of a golden age gone by.

Putting down his bag before adjusting his hair's side parting in the mirror, Kurt caught sight of a television's reflection. He couldn't see what was on it from this distance but it looked like it had drawn in quite an impressive crowd. Carlson and a few other members of the crew and cast had huddled around it, watching it intently but since the screen was no less than thirty inches wide and propped up on a plush chair set to snap at any second, they really were scrunched up and popping each other's personal bubbles like crazy. Whatever was on must have been worth watching, especially when Kurt knew there were some there with as many claustrophobic issues that was sane to have.

Whispers, murmurings and a cacophony of giggles and chuckles were enough to draw the inquisitive brunet in but when a certain billionaire's name passed a certain set of over enthusiastic lips, Kurt rolled his eyes, his curiosity dying quicker than road kill. Of course, Noah Puckerman was the subject of universal conversation, but did the man have to enter the realms of an opulent dressing room? It was as if the Puckermans were now the east coast equivalent of the Kardashians, with Noah at its reigns, steering his family further from their business roots and toward celebrity super-stardom and L.A. air-head superficiality. Kurt wouldn't have been at all surprised if a Puckerman reality show hadn't already hit the airwaves, convincing everyone of their desire for fame. After all, it would have been a piece of cake, knowing that they now owned a whole bucketful of highly-rated networks.

"Sorry, ladies, this ride's closed," Noah announced cheekily as he smirked at the camera, eliciting a laugh from the interviewer. Sure enough, as Kurt neared the television, footage of yesterday's premiere had appeared on the screen with a particular interview with Noah and Quinn in mid-session. It took Kurt every sliver of self-control not to vomit all over the screen in disgust. _This man's ego must be so far up his own ass, I doubt it can even see the sun,_ he thought as he turned away from the still-smirking seducer and perched himself on one of the desks. _Can't stand the man._

"What is this town's obsession with this player anyway? Someone please enlighten me," Kurt announced loudly so that all ten pairs of eyes landed on him. His agitation was building up from everything in his mind but before he could prevent himself from giving an impression that he didn't care one bit about Noah Puckerman, his annoyance had already seeped its way into his voice. So much for self-control. "He treats women like disposable objects, for Christ's sake; it's sexist and it's wrong."

"Calm down, Mr. Complain-a-lot," retorted Lola, a baby-doll looking blonde with fair skin and lush pigtails neatly tied with white ribbons hanging about her ears. She swiveled herself back to face the screen when all she got as a reaction from Kurt was an unimpressed expression that seemed to ooze a 'don't mess with me' look. It was enough to give anyone the threatening message. "It's not him we want to know about, it's the Fabray woman he's with."

"Why so pissy?" Carlson asked as he approached Kurt, inspecting his pale face for some sort of answer. Kurt, who had at this point folded his arms in an angry form of defiance seemed to deflate from the combination of the question and worried look on his friend's face. He didn't mean to be a party-pooper. He just guessed he was sick and tired of hearing Puckerman's name at every turn.

Flashing Carlson a tired smile, Kurt jumped off the desk and enveloped him in a friendly hug.

Carlton grinned at him. "Oh you want a hug? You've come to the right person. I'm a master at giving the hugs."

"I'm not looking forward to what Gordon's got in store for me," Kurt replied, resting his head on the taller man's athletic chest as his eyelids threatened to droop like ton weights. He could have stayed there all day, sleeping against his friend, and the idea was increasingly inviting though he didn't think Carlson would have appreciated it all that well if he were to have Kurt plastered to his front for the entire day, his little feet resting on his own like some baby Eskimo. Damn Carlson and his amazing hugging talent. "After yesterday's catastrophe I won't be surprised if I end up shredded to pieces in a cubicle."

"Don't worry. He's always like that with beginners. He'll calm down after a while and then he'll treat you like everyone else," Carlson soothed as he began rubbing circular motions into Kurt's back, reassuring him that bit more that the reign of terror only lasted for the first day's work before the monster threw you away in the used pile. Nevertheless, it was an action appreciated by the brunet. Swiveling his head to face the television once again, Kurt noticed that Noah's interview had long been over and in his place now stood Bérénice Marlohe, the flashing cameras behind the sultry French actress reminding him of the little device in his bag.

"Oh, I brought it along this time," Kurt exclaimed gleefully as he tore his sleepy body away from one of the best hugs he had ever had and picked up his bag, his nimble fingers doing quick work of loosening the straps and delving deep into its depths. Observing the brunet with an amused smile on his handsome face, Carlson watched with curiosity as Kurt rummaged through his bag, witnessing how close Kurt was to sticking his pretty little face in it. "I swore to bring my camera along with me every day from now on. Back in Lima, nothing was worth a second glance but I'm telling you now, this city has been making me do more double takes than is healthy for my neck."

"Oh, come on, where are you?" Kurt cried exasperatedly as he narrowed his eyes to peer closer into the bag. He was sure he'd put it in this morning and he if hadn't, he wasn't going to be responsible for his own actions. "Oh, for God's sake!"

Kurt tipped out the contents with a little too much force than was really necessary and Carlson watched as various items ranging from a packet of Madeleine's, a tin of home-made rose and almond oil for the lips and an iPhone clattered onto the desk below. "There we go!"

Kurt swiftly picked up the camcorder and inspected it for any scratches it might have obtained from the brief fall before quickly repacking the bag. However, as he was about to reach for the final object that had been hidden under a packet of tissues, Carlson swiped it up and brought it up to his eyes.

"'The Girls' Generation Heptology'," Carlson read aloud as he inspected the black writing, written in permanent ink on the ash grey DVD. Snapping his head at the sound of the name, Kurt's eyes bulged as he recognized the object. He hadn't realized he'd even packed the DVD. The last time he'd recalled its presence was when he had been stacking his movie shelf in his living room days ago, but clearly the little thing must have sneaked its way into the bag. The DVD itself was enclosed in a translucent casing and hadn't made a sound when it had landed on the table, yet it had caught Carlson's attention, feeding his curiosity. "Who are Girls' Generation?"

"They're a nine-member South Korean pop girl group," Kurt replied hastily as Carlson's inquisitive eyes shifted from the DVD to his face. "They're relatively unknown here in the West but they're very successful in the East especially in Japan. In fact, all the songs on there are in Japanese."

"The name sounds familiar," muttered Carlson, gently waving the DVD up and down against his palm as his thoughts stirred his memory into action. "Were they those girls on David Letterman and Live! With Kelly a few months back? I sort of remember them. The song was alright, choreography was good and the girls, whoa, they were smokin' hot."

"They are, indeed, known for their high-charting songs, impressive dance skills and beauty," Kurt admitted, his eyes never straying from the DVD. The chance to snatch the thing out of Carlson's loose grasp was presenting itself well, what with the taller man now gazing absentmindedly into reminiscing space but Kurt had no idea how quick his reflexes were. He supposed there was nothing wrong with finding out. "That's a set of fan-made Girls' Generation music videos I was in back in high school. My friend Artie Abrams is an aspiring cinematographer and we collaborated together to create seven video promos. He had a copy as well that he thought he would send off to his college of choice."

"Hey, guys, guess what I found!" shouted Carlson, whisking the DVD away from Kurt's lunge as the brunet attempted to snatch it back to no avail. It wasn't fair. Carlson was much taller than he was and apparently had reflexes as quick as a hunting woodland creature. There was no way he was ever going to get it back now.

Watching warily as his friend frantically waved the DVD in the air in front of expectant eyes, Kurt prayed it would slip out from its case and smash against the wall into a million irreparable pieces but, no, as soon as it had reached the television and slotted itself into the player, Kurt knew no smashing of any kind would be happening. "Kurt's brought along a DVD for all of us to watch," Carson announced.

"I'd actually prefer it if you didn't watch it. It's nothing, I mean it's... they're not even that good," Kurt pleaded as he rushed over to the television, shoved Carlson aside and quickly stood in front of the screen, his hands pressed in between his back and the warm, staticky glass behind him. If fate wasn't going to help him, he was going to have to help himself, though the round of mischievous smirks inching their way across the faces of his colleagues seemed to scream in the wake of yet another overpowering obstacle. He really thought he'd convinced them all somehow, what with the desperate tone of his voice and innocent expression. He'd thought it had worked, until he was violently pushed aside.

Moaning, Kurt returned to his bag, slumped down into a seat and buried his head in his hands. The melodies and beats of Girls' Generation's Mr. Taxi, Genie, Run Devil Run, Bad Girl, Gee, Hoot and Time Machine were filling the air and all he wanted to do was get to work. No doubt after this he was going to be referred to as 'Mr. Taxi' or 'Genie Boy' or 'Run Kurt Run'. His original name was only going to become a distant memory by the end of his second day of work experience and even though he couldn't see the reactions of those gluing their faces to the screen, their eyes darting over every speeding frame, he dreaded their upcoming waves of teasing.

Teasing. That was something that had haunted Kurt for most of his life. All through kindergarten when he'd played by himself, all through elementary school when he'd watched from the playground sidelines, all through Junior High and High School itself always feeling like the outsider. It was enough to bring a tear to the eye but as Kurt raised his head to the unexpected sight of his colleagues one by one turning their heads to face him with gaping mouths and utter shock on their faces, his time as the invisible boy was over. The surprised expressions of his friends were bringing him in a kind of attention only popular kids had been illuminated with, and it was something to bask in but also squirm under. Intense stares were searing into him until a question he'd never thought he'd hear in his life was asked.

"Are you a model?" Lola asked as her shocked expression morphed into more of genuine curiosity. Blinking at the absurdity of the question, his brows frowning as they begged the girl and all the others who thought the same to explain themselves, Kurt's mouth gaped with only a string of barely incomprehensible sounds coming out. Everyone was so still, so motionless that this was just becoming too uncomfortable to bear, yet it was the looks of their constantly changing faces of shock to wonderment to appreciation that had him shaking his head in response.

"Kurt, with all the lip-syncing, dancing and posing you were doing, you looked like a professional model," Lola continued as she gestured towards the screen as it replayed Bad Girl, the volume on mute but the video very much alive. Gulping, Kurt could only manage to follow the pointing finger as it pointed to his dancing figure in a somewhat objectifying manner, outlining slowly everything from the back up dancers to his rose petal plimsolls, dark leather leggings, black vest, unruly hair and heavy Goth like makeup. What was going on? "I mean look at you! No wonder all the boys and girls are all over you, you're gorgeous!"

"Thank you, Lola," Kurt blushed heavily as he glanced down at his shoes before looking back at Lola, his eyes now shimmering with unshed tears. This was all too much. Since he was a child he'd always been criticized for being odd-looking. Everyone else's faces had seemed to either be blessed with classic beauty or rugged handsomeness whilst he had been the one with the face that belonged on a Malibu Ken doll, strange, off-putting and odd enough for him to have avoided every mirror except for his own vanity for years. Now, however, with the kindest word that could have been attributed to a boy like him, Kurt shone with gratefulness. "You're the first person to ever call me that."

"Are you okay," Carlson asked gently, approaching Kurt fast and in fear that the boy was about to burst like a blocked garden fountain. Kurt did, indeed, look overwhelmed. It was enough to sense another sleep-inducing hug was in order and as he sat the sniffing brunet on his lap, pulling him into his arms as he did, he lightly kissed the top of his head comfortingly. Reaching over for some tissues, Carlson offered them to Kurt who gladly accepted them. Kurt swiped at his eyes before leaning back against his friend's warm chest, allowing him to support his heavy head as he regained his composure. "You alright, Kurt? You okay?"

"I feel… great," Kurt admitted, giggling as he realized how silly he was being right now. He must have seemed weird, getting emotional over a compliment but it only seemed to the others that there really was more to him than had met the eye. Of course they didn't know of his school life, they didn't know anything about his previous life in Lima simply because it was too painful to recount, especially when the topic brushed up on his appearance. "Throughout my life, I've been described as the washed out looking, unhealthily thin gay kid but never... gorgeous."

"I've got an idea!" Carmen announced as she rushed to her backpack before rummaging urgently inside it. Carmen Bizet was one of the most eccentric people Kurt had ever had the fortune to meet. She was an actress but that didn't mean that just because she was an artist she went around demoralizing everything, though her cynical, pessimistic side could get the better of her at times. However, just as he was about to inquire into what she was doing, Lola resumed her praises, fully ignoring her friend's frantic scurrying.

"Bear with me, Kurt," Carmen muttered. "I should have it with me... if I can only find it..."

Lola looked at Kurt. "Kurt, do you mean to tell me that no one's even called you good looking? Please, I would kill for your skin, your eyes, your lips, your nose! Scrap that – I'd kill for your whole freaking face," Lola gushed as several of the other girls surrounding her engaged in a sort of nodding chorus, their exact same forms of agreements making them all look like robotic minions of dreaded female cliques, except Kurt had nothing to fear with his lot. Lola's statement had laid on top of him a blanket of appreciative if envious eyes and it was beautiful to behold. "Seriously, if your Sweet Pea looks aren't the working of a model, I don't know what is. I just... can't believe I didn't see it before."

"Found it!" Carmen shriek almost startled them as she pulled out a professional-looking Sony camera from her black backpack, brandishing it like some Olympic medal fresh from the award ceremony. Walking briskly towards Kurt, she wrenched the bewildered boy from his Carlson-shaped perch and led him towards a plain white section of the room, positioning him in front of it.

 **Flash!** Kurt blinked as his photo was taken. **Flash! Flash!** Great, now he was seeing spots. **Flash! Flash! Flash!** Was this a photoshoot or a blinding session? It was getting hard to tell. "Don't smile, Kurt! That's it, like that! Okay, now turn to your side, I need to get a profile shot! Great!"

"Let me see, let us all see!" Lola exclaimed as everyone huddled around Carmen, the camera now the center of attention. Lola muttered to herself as they all admired the photos. Kurt didn't know what to do now. It had felt as though he'd just been convicted and ordered to have his picture taken at a police station downtown. The only thing missing was a height measurer in the form of black painted lines behind him and a plaque with his details. Yet that image seemed to lighten as everyone admired the photos, as if it were candy to their eyes. "Wow, Kurt, you are so photogenic it's unfair!"

"You want to see?" Carmen smiled as she handed him the camera. Barely catching the device, Kurt nodded before scrolling through each photo. Now that people had started to notice his newly-discovered 'good looks', Kurt was eying his photographs in a much clearer light. These so-called envious features they were going on about were the exact ones he'd grown to detest in the past, the exact ones. Yet now those days had passed, judgment had lifted and the boy staring back at him, although confused and anxious looking, had never appeared freer in all his life.

Coming to stand in front of the enraptured boy, Carmen smiled. She knew talent had walked in on them all, she just didn't know when it would come shining for all to see. Kurt had no idea how beautiful he was. It was a face to break hearts, a face to match the likes of Helen of Troy, Queen Cleopatra and the Goddess Aphrodite combined, the ultimate seducer, the ultimate tempter. Yet, what really upped her excitement and anticipation was that Kurt had no idea of it all. Innocence had kept her motherly hands around her baby and as Kurt lifted his head to meet Carmen's smirking gaze, little did he know that her next words would change his life forever.

"Congratulations, Kurt. New York City has found itself its new model."


	5. Madison Square Garden

Kurt slowly sat himself down on his softly quilted bed and stared open-mouthed out his window, bursts of sunshine rippling off the brick walls of the neighboring buildings. It was beautiful how nature could look so effortless, calm and peaceful, a stark contrast to his hectic day. His eyes were still seeing spots, his legs were weak as toothpicks and his poor inexperienced little feet felt as though they were going to fall off at any second. He'd never once been put through such harsh paces in his life, not even when he'd run away from his high school tormentors. He supposed he had to blame it on the velocity of life when it came to New York. There was no time for procrastinating, or any hanging around. Life didn't wait, and neither did Carmen.

After the red-headed girl had further blinded him with photos as well as photographed them all as a group with his 'stunning' face in the middle, she had sneaked them out of the theater's stage door and smuggled him into the bustling heart of the city. Their first point of call had been a small photography studio situated several blocks away where an apparent long-time friend and fellow aspiring photographer operated. Her name was Belle or 'Baby-Boo' as Carmen liked to nickname her and she was lovely. Not only did the woman emit such a radiating presence that was hard to ignore but she managed to calm Kurt down from his bewildered high with a mixture of flattering compliments and gentle strokes to the back of his neck.

The pale boy had found himself entranced with the photographer and had had no problem posing for her in front of the white background, the spell that had been cast by Baby-Boo controlling him like a dream-stricken puppet, his wide smile beauteous and bright. With the final snap and flash of the camera, the three-minute session was over, a session which hadn't lasted nearly long enough in Kurt's eyes. Handing over a list of addresses of several modelling agencies within the city, Belle had wished them good luck, gifting Kurt with a parting kiss on the cheek for luck. It was a sign of friendly affection enough to whisk Kurt away from the studio with nothing but light shoulders and a care free head. It was a form of relaxation like no other that was however broken when thoughts of getting fired for skiving off work came to mind.

He was glad Carmen was by his side. Her determination and persistence to get him booked before the sun set on the horizon was enough to further drive the duo on their quest, and as soon as the clock had struck six, it had all paid off. Everything had been done. Hyperventilation was in order and a sleep worth a thousand nights was very much the last task on Kurt's to-do list. The brunet had been dragged to approximately ten modelling agencies in a space of several hours with the journeys to each establishment laying down its own set of obstacles in the form of catching departing subway trains, surviving road raged taxi cabs and generally staying alive in a world where a car's horn was the last sound one heard before dying.

 _It's going to take forever to get used to this,_ he had thought as he had exited the final agency that day, his hand going up to flatten his dry, windswept hair as it protruded upwards in a series of embarrassing angles. _Looks like my hair is going to face the biggest brunt of it all._ In total, seven of the ten agencies he had approached had expressed interest in him whilst the remaining three had rejected him due to his 'immature looks and wrong image'. Whether that was because he didn't have any facial hair, sport cheek bones sharp enough to slice bread with or have the muscle tone and tanned skin that so many Calvin Klein models had, he didn't know, but had not taken offense. Seven offers was already quite an achievement already and he didn't want life to think he was ungrateful or greedy. He was very pleased with himself.

By the time he'd returned to his apartment, where the rooms weren't covered head to toe in model resumes and white and black wasn't the dominant color scheme for decoration, his body had immediately collapsed onto the floor. Carmen had fed him mugs upon mugs of herbal tea infused with Earl Grey along with sumptuous chocolate and mint biscuits that had melted on his tongue, and even though earlier that afternoon lunch had been glossed over with a mere sandwich, sleep was what he craved, just sleep.

Since Carmen knew considerably more about photography and the modelling industry as a whole, she proceeded to advise him with a rundown of each company, ranging from Ford Models all the way to Next Management. She'd listed every pro and con of each so that by the time she'd left, a final decision was to have been made by Kurt, but the boy couldn't have cared less. Sleep was what he needed. Sleep...

But he couldn't sleep. His mind was too riddled with life-changing questions that had to be answered urgently. Was he really going to do this? Did this mean that his work experience was over? Was the prospect of entering the world of modelling going to steer him further away from Broadway stardom? Kurt had asked himself all of these questions repeatedly over the course of the night, each roll and toss of his restless body bringing about more anxiety, more worry. It was unnecessary and he should have been able to solve them all on his own but in the end, it was useless. With a push of a button, his father was on the phone to him. Texting was out of the question. His update was too long, the matter too important and he wasn't about to lose his fingers as well as his feet to self-induced torture.

"Listen, son, if you think you can do this, do it. You already know how to pretty much stand in front of the camera without looking stupid. It's a rare gift," began Burt, as he tried to tone down his surprise at the sudden shift in Kurt's plans. Kurt as a model? Talk about living the dream and in the land of opportunity no less. It was, indeed, a life-changing choice as Kurt had dramatically labelled it but it was ultimately up to his son to make the final call. This was his life. It was time he began living it. "You may not have tons of professional experience but you're in New York just for that, aren't you?"

"Are you saying I should do it?" Kurt asked as his eyebrows shot up his forehead. Modelling wasn't a route he'd considered. In fact, it was one that had never come to mind what with its strict entrance policy and him having looks close to a vagabond back home. Like everything else he'd taken on, he'd have to study the way the professional models posed if he was going to become serious about this line of work. Everything had to be accounted for and Kurt supposed that another round of brain-cramming knowledge sessions was well on its way. "You don't mind if I stray away from Broadway for a while?"

"Look..." his father began, clearing his voice as if in preparation for a detailed explanation. Burt had always known his son had inherited his mother's beauty, it was plain to see. He just hadn't ever stated it. Now, however, he wished he had. He knew the looks Kurt received, a mixture of teasing cruelty that only covered deep-rooted jealousy. Everyone who had ever known Kurt had turned on him in the form of green-eyed monsters full to the brim with envy, and all because of his angelic looks. "If you get regular work from the agency and if you enjoy yourself while doing it, then I say suspend your work experience and focus on the modelling. Plus, I hear it pays well."

"I won't get paid thousands now, dad, not for quite a while… if at all. I'm still a novice here," smiled Kurt as he began to giggle at the smirking tone in his father's voice. He knew Burt was going to support him whatever he chose to do. It was the kind of liberty he had been afforded ever since he was young and the deal had been that as long as he was happy and content, a supportive figure would always be behind him. Well, just as long as he wasn't killing anyone. "But you do make a good point. Okay, I'll give it a shot and see how it goes. Who knows, I could soon be the model on the front cover of the next magazine you read. Goodnight, dad."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Wednesday morning greeted a refreshed pale boy as he slid out of bed with a smile on his face, only to lose his balance and fall to the floor, his body planking on the carpet with a noisy thud. Kurt moaned in pain. He strived to be as light on his feet as possible in whatever he did, especially nowadays seeing as he did have a neighbor living several meters beneath him in the apartment below, but his head now weighed as much as a bowling ball. It had thrown him off completely, which made it all the more urgent to master morning elegance as soon as possible. He didn't want the first thing he said good morning to was the carpet, considering he trod on it all day long.

Today he was about to agree to a whole new career path and it was exciting. Admittedly, he hadn't given the topic days of thought but he'd slept on it. That is what was always advised by most. Originally he never thought he'd go down a path that didn't entail a stage and a spotlight. It was too alien to think about. The Phantom of the Opera, The Lion King, Cats, Les Misérables and Wicked were musicals he'd grown up and flourished on. They'd been his sole friends when he'd had none, as sad as that tragically sounded, and although his best friend Mercedes Jones would always have his deepest friendship, the chants from the stage would always remain dear to him.

However, life had a sneaky way of surprising those who expected it least. The transition from the stage to runway wasn't as great as it could have been. It was nothing to fret long about. After all, he was pleased with the newfound decision he'd made. It showed great courage, tasting a flavor of the kind of world New York was famous for and as the list of the modelling agencies fluttered in his hand, a phone landing in his other, his finger scrolled down the names and numbers of the various agencies until his chosen selection came before him. This was it. Let the fun begin.

"Hello, my name is Kurt Hummel. I visited your offices yesterday in regards to a modelling application. In fact, I was offered a place on your books on the day but I was unable to give an answer. However, I'm calling now to confirm my place, if the offer still stands."

"Please hold," the female voice replied, the line going silent as Kurt began to bite his lip anxiously. He really disliked it when people said those two words. It was like they were purposefully trying to tear one's nerves apart just by not being there on the phone, and it only caused him to pace around his room continuously, circling a particular spot so many times that he swore he didn't even have to look down to know that he'd worn a giant circle in his bedroom carpet. "Mr. Hummel? Thank you for accepting our offer, though you will need to fill out a few forms before your place is secured here at Elite Models... please hold."

"Oh, for God's sake," Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes as he prevented himself from walking over to the nearest wall and repeatedly banging a Kurt-shaped hole in the plaster. It was very tempting and he would have done it if his spirits hadn't soared with joy. As soon as the receptionist had uttered those crucial words of confirmation, Kurt's smile had never ceased to widen. He'd punched the air in happiness, high-fiving it repetitively and it didn't matter that he was still in his pajamas and it didn't matter that he hadn't made his bed or aired his room. He was a model. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hel_"

"I apologize for having kept you waiting, Mr. Hummel. I have your forms with me now. What we would usually do is mail them over to you for completion and then you'd send them back, or you would come down to the office to fill them out here," explained the receptionist in a rather matter of fact tone. Kurt didn't care, though. He'd already stopped acting like the hyperactive fool and had proceeded to sit on his bed and nod emphatically to everything that was being said. "However, I have just been informed that you are needed down here anyway, so I guess that takes care of that. Will you able to be with us within the next hour? If not I'm sure we can arrange_"

"Yes, I can make it. I'll be with you shortly. Thanks again," Kurt replied as he placed the phone down. With a quick running of the tap and a draping of an outfit on smooth skin, Kurt picked up his bag and descended his apartment's stairs, fully presentable and fully ready to head out into the city. It took him less than ten minutes to reach the Elite headquarters from his place, only because the traffic was cooperative and the streets were bare of crowds. This meant that, by the time he'd rounded the corner to his destination, he was well within time as well as exhausted. Sprinting was a form of travel he'd have to work on.

It turned out, much to Kurt's unabashed surprise, that a strong list of clients had already viewed his portfolio with keen interest. Head-hunters for Marc Jacobs, Paul Smith and Burberry had all bookmarked him for future projects ranging from standard print ads to actual fashion shows and Kurt was half tempted to whip out his phone, snap a picture of his schedule and send the exciting news to both Carmen and Belle. He could imagine smiles erupting on both their faces, with an 'I knew it' expression on Carmen's knowing face. However, as he further inspected the dates for these appointments, he made a shocking discovery. One of the most famous and celebrated runway shows in the entire fashion world was on his list, clear as daylight: The Salvatore Spectacle _._

Kurt's fingers shuddered, causing the paper to waver slightly. The Salvatore Spectacle was famous for its outlandishly intricately designed runways, classically provocative outfits and the huge number of celebrities on the invite list. It was a combination of self-assured strutting for models and voyeuristic pleasures for men and women - the unconventionality becoming mainstream entertainment. With a $15 million budget increasing every year and attracting a whopping five million viewers each time, it was a big deal and Kurt was having a difficult time comprehending his upcoming involvement. He was nowhere near as tall as the typical male model should be, what with his height reaching only a measly five foot ten. The minimum height required was at least six foot, so why was he involved and why was the date for this thing looking way too close for comfort. _Tomorrow?! Shit!_ _  
_

"Excuse me, there's been a printing mistake on my schedule," Kurt began desperately as he glanced back at the pretty receptionist, whose robotic sounding voice he'd heard earlier on the phone didn't at all correspond with the wholesome almost housewife looking woman sitting before him. He supposed it was the job. Speaking to people for hours on end was something Kurt assumed to be enough to completely wipe out any enthusiasm from one's voice. He wondered whether Martha back at the Monarch Theater suffered similarly. "I've been cast in this show tomorrow night but I've only just accepted your offer today. Surely there's got to be some kind of training program I have to take part in before I do runway?"

"Really? Oh no, Mr. Hummel, there is no printing mistake. We can't afford them. Otherwise we'd have models running around like headless chickens," the receptionist laughed as Kurt threw her a small smile in return. He knew it was bad of him but he was hoping for some kind of error to have occurred. He wasn't prepared for something of this magnitude. It just wasn't feasible. _Talk about being thrown in the deep end._ "Though I understand your confusion," she continued. "I, too, thought it strange and believe me, I double-checked, a lot. You're new here and no novice model has ever been booked so soon and for so many. I mean, only the most experienced and highest-rated faces are cast in The Salvatore Spectacle, so be grateful. You are one lucky son of a bitch."

"Thank you... for that. I'll be on my way now," Kurt replied as the receptionist gave him a knowing look before collecting the forms he had completed earlier and filing them all in some sort of well-organized pile on the desk. However, the boy had winced at her poor choice of words when images of his mother who had passed away some time ago came flying back to him in a series of scattered memories. He really wished people weren't so crude when it came to conversation. Just one slip of the tongue was enough to unknowingly hurt others. "Goodbye."

Swiftly stepping out into the street, the office door closing behind him, Kurt continued to examine his paper. Everything seemed to be in order. A Thursday nine o'clock to three o'clock rehearsal time slot had been printed next to the date of the actual show, but as his eyes continued traveling further right, he stopped dead in his tracks. The address of the spectacle was at Madison Square Garden, the largest arena in New York City. It could seat thousands, accommodate just about anything and was one of the many multi-purpose arenas owned by the Puckerman family. _Strange,_ thought Kurt as he narrowed his eyes, _t_ _he spectacle has never been hosted there. Why now?_

Clearly this autumn wasn't just sweeping up the pumpkin and papaya whip shaded leafs into the air, but everything else too. Kurt had to wonder how many more changes would be made until another ton weight hit him heavier than all the others. The Puckermans owned the Garden which meant a Puckerman was going to attend The Salvatore Spectacle, and Kurt knew exactly which one. He was going to be strutting along a glittering runway decorated with exquisite props and colorings, wearing God knows what in front of the city's infamous seducer and heir to the most successful conglomerate in the world, whose bedroom was busier than Bloomingdale's on a Saturday. Just the thought was enough to make Kurt's knees buckle and as he waved over a taxi, hopped in and headed home, the image of Noah Puckerman's magnetic hazel eyes haunted his return.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

The setting and the rising of the golden sun was the single blur that flashed past Kurt's taxi window in the next few hours and as he threw cash at the driver before pelting towards the entrance of the Madison Square Garden, he cursed his delectably warm bed. Oversleeping was something he'd managed to conquer back when he was thirteen, since nothing good came with being caught sneaking into your junior high school class undetected, but now that it had returned full force, he was in heaps of trouble. Running fifteen minutes late for an important runway rehearsal and in New York of all places was almost considered criminal. It was literally be there or be square. Not a good start.

No sooner had he stepped through the arena's front doors than he had found himself in the actual center where the sports courts had been stripped and replaced with a raised, outthrust catwalk undergoing management by many construction crew members. Lighting rigs were being set up, sound systems tested and absolutely everyone had a task at hand, all except for Kurt. The boy was taking in his surroundings like a curious kitten entering its new home, except this little kitten wasn't wearing a headset with a microphone suspended close to its mouth, neither was it shouting orders that echoed for minutes on end, as if they were in a large icicle structure with sound-reflecting panelling made entirely out of snowflakes.

As Kurt observed the vast space, feeling increasingly lost and overwhelmed by everything happening around him, he noticed all the models scattered across the pit of the arena. Every single one of them had been in the midst of listening to a talk from a woman at the front, who he assumed was the director before, one by one, every single of their exotic faces turned to him with unimpressed looks. Flushing with embarrassment as he noticed even the crew had halted their activities to stare him down, Kurt remained motionless under all their harsh gazes. Whispering, laughter and even more whispering now filled the room but when compared to the previous sounds of banging and clanging metal, it was worse.

Ever so slowly and racked with trepidation and fear, Kurt began weaving his way through the crowd of beautiful creatures. It was nerve-wracking to say the least but with each step he took, a glowering face would lighten into a gleaming grin and with another step he took, a hand would remove his outdoor garments and hang it up neatly nearby, so that by the time he had finally reached the director's position at the far end, all he was in was his jeans, polo top, and of course, a charming aura that he exuded with an apologetic smile. Pacing around him, eying him with a critical eye and repetitively hitting a folded a piece of paper against her hand, the director growled before speaking.

"You're late," she announced harshly as Kurt winced at the sheer coldness in the blunt accusation. "But you're just in time for the surprise."

Blinking in confusion, Kurt's eyes were once again drawn to the catwalk where a large burlesque-like sign of The Salvatore Spectacle was illuminated, its Hollywood vanity bulbs encircling the letters glowing alive as the whole thing was raised to highlight the magnificent proscenium arch. Everything, in terms of décor, was further turning into a scene from a Victoria's Secret show. The Americana imagery mixed in with a large influence of Golden Age Hollywood was rendering the whole thing as a vintage and glamorous farcical show but, of course, with obvious class.

Watching with awe, Kurt joined his fellow models in raising his head in unison as the sign was lifted higher and higher, their necks craning and backs bending as it eventually fixed itself into place. It was a spectacle… and it was beautiful. The brunet closed his eyes. He relaxed himself as applause rang out, he relaxed himself as each model approached him, their hands ghosting over his long neck, pale arms and slim waist, examining every inch of him like a welcoming committee, ridding him of anything Lima had latched onto, saying hello in their own special way, their own language. He wanted to say hello back, but he couldn't. He was too entranced in the feeling of their elegant fingers stroking his skin like a prayer until with an ear-banging stomp of the director's foot, Kurt opened his eyes.

Lowering his head, Kurt felt as though he had been thoroughly cleansed as well as thrown forwards through time. He was now standing at the start of the catwalk, all the models, contrary to their previous proximity, now standing on the far sides of the stage, their laughter and gossiping muffled behind their hands. It was the only thing to be seen before a spotlight landed on him, and just as he was about to descend the walkway, his legs loosening from their invisible chains, a model stepped in front of him. Then another one, then another one until three models were now strutting down the catwalk, posing like professionals and showing him exactly how it was done. Kurt had spent the whole of last night watching video after video of previous Salvatore Spectacle shows from the past twenty-four years but nothing could match a live performance. The upcoming celebrations of the show's 25th anniversary were going to rock worlds.

He'd studied how models had cast their magic of allure, maintained their distant, seductive demeanors and kept their crowns as every fantasy monarchy by practicing many of their trademark moves to the pleasure of his bathroom mirror. He'd selected the expressions which did and didn't suit him, he'd experimented with lighting to determine which set of angles best complimented his face and, finally, he'd practiced walking in a straight line, keeping his eyes fixed on a point ahead and swiveling around on the balls of his feet to walk back up the runway.

Thankfully, though, it was a set of tasks that didn't pose a problem. Kurt, ever since he was little, had always been complimented for his good posture and sense of direction. His interest in dance from an early age had laid the seeds for such an admired feature to grow and now that he was here, rehearsing in front of many, he was allowing that very seed to blossom into an image of floating beauty.

However, changes were in store for not only him, but for all the other models. Walking and posing had been deemed not enough for the anniversary celebrations because now, along with the traditional features of a runway show had come the major update: dance.

As soon as the word had escaped the director's mouth, nervous, frightened glances had been exchanged. Every model's worried face was now a stark contrast to their usual stony masks, which fascinated Kurt. Being asked to dance as well as strut and pose in outfits that left no room for disagreement was very hard to do, even for experienced dancers. How on earth were any of these beautiful people going to survive when the closest move they could pull off on the dance floor was either head banging or hip gyrating? It was alright for Kurt, however. His history with movement including years of studying dance routines from artists' music videos by replaying them over and over on YouTube had him covered but for the rest? They had all been set up to fail.

Inna, the Romanian dance artist, had been invited to sing a playlist of her singles for the actual show. He heard that she had been sent to a secluded practice room somewhere in the arena to rehearse her vocals and choreography where the threat of being hounded by crazed fans screaming for autographs was very minimal. Even if Kurt had wanted to find her he wouldn't have been able to. The Garden was a concrete maze of passageways and corridors that led to nowhere and anywhere, and he'd sooner stay put than get lost. It was a pity, really. He'd always been a fan of Inna's discography ever since he had ventured away from the American sound onto the European charts, and to think he'd be seeing her live tonight. Oh, it was exciting!

"She had to let the servants go. My maid knows the cook."

"You know everyone."

"I'd rather not. Asia over there looks disgusting. She shouldn't even be strutting down this catwalk. I mean, she's just ghastly. She should just crawl back into her hidey-hole or whatever Godforsaken sink pit she's come from."

"The one thing I've learned about girls from the gutter is that they know their jewels. No way are those diamonds she's wearing fake, but who wears studded stones to a rehearsal apart from whores? Speaking of which, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought she was fresh out of the brothel. Oh, my goodness!"

"She's looking over here, look away!"

"Now the tart's staring at me, isn't it awful? Then again, she's not the only loose person around here."

"I don't know who you're referring to."

"Anyway, have you seen the director recently? I think she looks very out of sorts."

"Her husband has been causing a lot of problems lately, spending far too much time with the male models."

"Ha, too much, but it is true she looks very dour, always tragic. Hey, that new boy is very pretty, isn't he?"

"A new life, unfortunately. When you think about it, he's such a poor boy. He's so young, so... I think he should go back to wherever he came from."

"Do I look like him? Don't you think so?"

"A long time ago."

"Oh, you exaggerate. He has blue eyes like me."

"I heard he comes from Ohio. They're not exactly the warmest of people but I suppose he's rather sweet... for a country boy."

"I think he's delightful, he looks like a little piece of cake."

"It'll be interesting to see how long he lasts."

Kurt had been about to descend the stage when two female models had appeared out of nowhere behind him, the tops of their faces obscured by the shadow of a ceiling rig. He'd wanted to put a face to whoever was saying such scathing remarks but he didn't dare look around, lest the good light they were shining him in fizzled out to reveal harsh black smoke.

However, this was only a taste of the endless gossip and banter everyone seemed to engage in when the director's eyes weren't fixated on them. Bitching after bitching, talking and talking, it just wouldn't stop like an endless stream of bitterness that seemed to flow like a cascade into the already tense air of the arena.

Eventually breaking his losing patience, Kurt looked around to face two women standing behind him, their eyes gazing down at him as though he were their leashed dog. He didn't know what to say and the thought of saying nothing really did cross his mind as they sniggered before prancing off down the catwalk.

It all left Kurt a little flustered and frustrated that he hadn't confronted them. If this is what people talked about to each other, then one could wave goodbye to friendships, if they weren't already extinct by this point. Zoning out stray sounds of whispering whilst learning the dance routines was in the end the only thing to keep him sane but even that was more strenuous than necessary with everyone critiquing his every move.

That's why he was so glad that, by five o'clock that afternoon, he'd been allowed to leave with strict instructions to return by six for the seven o'clock show. As every other model clustered together into the night air like cold penguins rubbing themselves against each other for warmth, Kurt exited the arena alone. He was looking over the piece of paper detailing which specific acts and outfits he would be wearing when a freezing gust of evening breeze hurtled towards him out of nowhere and snatched the paper out from his shivering grasp.

There it traveled up into the night sky like a lost soul and Kurt was tempted to jump and retrieve it, save it from a certain fate of endless wondering when in the distance loomed the Puckerman building. Beautifully lit, its shard-like shape looked as though it was prepared to pierce the clouds above, an arrow to the heavens, the earth's silver glistening dagger. It really did boast the best of modern architecture. To Kurt, the sight amazed him yet horrified him immensely and with one final stomach-churning lurch, he dashed into the awaiting taxi, determined not to fall victim to his nerves.

However, he didn't feel safe until he'd landed on his bed, with nothing but the beating of his own heart and the ceiling for company. Apart from planning on resting his incredibly worn out feet with no frivolous trips to the kitchen, rest room or even his iPhone to check his inbox, Kurt fell victim to his own thoughts. They were thoughts so dense that they shrouded his mind in complete blindness, causing him to become blissfully unaware of the rain of water from the shower head to the spray of his favorite cologne. Yes, thinking about Noah Puckerman was a distraction to end all distractions, but not in the sense one would think. Kurt was not like that.

 _I wonder if he'll appear as Noah or someone else,_ thought Kurt as his denim jacket floated down onto his shoulders as he locked the front door behind him. _I wonder if the characters on that runway will be the only ones in the Garden tonight._

Little did Kurt Hummel know that what he was thinking was one of the greatest issues in a certain man's life, a topic of conversation that would later change his life forever but, of course, a second thought wasn't given. Kurt's preoccupation with reaching his first show in time and before his nerves shook him out of his skin, was the main thing to focus on. After all, the combination of the street's air filling his head with intoxicating aromas of the cool September evening and the sound of strutting steps on the catwalk only indicated one thing:

_Show Time…_


	6. The Salvator Spectacle

No taxi tonight. No tube, no public transport, no nothing. Kurt had dismissed them all in favor of walking to his first runway show and it most likely wasn't one of his wisest of choices, considering the amount of walking and dancing he would be doing in shoes several sizes too small. His growing attachment to the New York evening air was probably clouding his judgment, the smell of rich oxygen at this hour mixed in with city life aiding his poor choices but he didn't mind. He was new here. Exceptions could be made.

Alongside the risk of being mugged in a deserted street, Kurt had wanted to invite his friends from The Monarch Theater, Carlson, Carmen and Lola to come attend his catwalk debut. It was the least he could do after all they had done for him. Without their help he'd no doubt be at home right now recovering from all the insult thrown at him by none other than Gordon, the putrid theater director. Plus, he knew what giant suckers all three of them were for famous events, celebrity sightings and raging hot models, even if bumping into models themselves wasn't hard to do in New York. They roamed free as if they were in some kind of catwalk safari, with their beautiful figures and faces no longer confined to the billboards in Time Square.

Kurt knew Carlson would attempt to deny his secret love of the celebrity culture and way of life with a swift 'pfft, yeah right' but he wouldn't call him on it. The way he over-excitedly replied to Kurt's mass invitation to come with Carmen and Lola to see him perform was all the brunet needed to know and as he giggled to himself, he couldn't help but share their hype, even if it was in text form.

He'd informed them all to meet him at the backdoor of the arena where everyone working for and included in the show had been instructed to enter, but this was the problem. He didn't know how it all worked. Was he meant to have obtained for his friends backstage passes like they did at music concerts? Were there even any backstage passes? Or had he unknowingly set them all up for an evening of standing outside in the freezing cold?

Similarly to inviting his friends to join the festivities, Kurt had wanted Burt to attend. Nothing was more important than family and sharing such a night with his father would have been perfect, but asking him to fly all the way over just for an hour-long event did seem a bit much. He most likely had his hands full at the garage with the first thing he would do once returning home would be to collapse on his couch and fall asleep to re-runs of 'Deadliest Catch'. It sounded about right. In any case, the spectacle was scheduled to be filmed and broadcast on CBS so all was not lost. Though Kurt just wished he could see the smile on Burt's face. How he would hug him, congratulate him and announce how proud he and his mother were of him. Just that thought was enough to bring another cheerful bounce to Kurt's already excited steps.

Looking up at the night sky, which considering was the sky hovering over the most populous city in the country, Kurt admired the multiple tinges of rose quartz grey and thistle purple bedecking its beauty. It was glorious and although it was a wonderful sight to behold, it only seemed to act as a starter for the night's magnificence. The city was lively as ever with a maze of illumination in the form of headlights flashing by on the roads, glittering multi-colored bulbs adorned the Broadway signs in Times Square and finally the arena, Madison Square Garden, the circular modern building that now resembled some kind of space ship set to take off at any minute. _No wonder falling in love with this city is so easy,_ thought Kurt as he stood before it _s_ splendor. _I don't think I'll ever leave._

"Kurt! Hey, Kurt, over here!" Kurt's head whipped around to see Carlson on the opposite sidewalk, Carmen and Lola right next to him, both of them joining in with the man's emphatic waving. _I knew they couldn't resist,_ thought Kurt as with perfect judgment and a swift crossing, he arrived on the other side. _No one could._

About to greet them all, their wide smiles inviting him closer, Kurt was pulled right into an engulfing group hug of asphyxiating proportions, both his rosy cheeks now finding themselves caught in-between Carlson's stubble and Lola's over-lip glossed mouth. Ideal. "Whoa, guys stop. We're squishing him. Back up, back up."

"You made it, I'm so glad you're all here," Kurt exclaimed as his friends eventfully set him free from their comforting yet overly tight hug to smile back at him. They all looked so happy, so joyous to be here that he couldn't have felt more grateful for their support. Now however, with the Garden right behind them, Kurt's eyes couldn't help but stray. Looking up at the massive building, he now took in with greater detail the large tinted windows, suspended banners with 'The Salvatore Spectacle' written in eye-catching Trojan Pro red letters, adorned finally with the American flag flapping above the main entrance, waving in the wind as Kurt looked up to see all fifty stars shining down at him. "I apologize if you already had plans for tonight. I don't mean to_"

"What are you talking about, Doll Face? We wouldn't have missed this for the world," Carlson smirked, winking cheekily at him as Carmen rolled her eyes, Lola bursting into a bout of giggles.

Shortly after receiving his modelling contract, Carlson had begun referring to him as 'Doll Face', a nickname that had soon latched on to him by everyone who knew him. 'Candy Kurt', 'Baby Boy Romper' and 'Good mornin' good lookin'' were all pet names he didn't mind at all; in fact, they were rather cute and fitting for him, mostly because they were sweetly sugared compliments that he was still very much getting used to.

Blushing, Kurt averted his eyes from Carlson's suggestive brows to Lola, who in that moment, looked as if she could barely contain her gleeful laughter. "What? It's true! I'd do it for anyone of you guys," Carlson continued.

"Shit! Kurt you've got to get in, you're five minutes late already! Go!" Carmen's eyes were bulging after a peak at her watch and grabbing hold of Kurt's arm, the red-headed girl directed him briskly towards the arena stage door, Carlson and Lola hot on their heels.

It was not a good feeling, being manhandled, Kurt could attest to years of it, but now that his best interests were at heart, he did as he was told and got moving. "I am not going to stand by and let you miss your own first freaking show, Hummel," Carmen yelled. "You're modeling on that runway before the night is over and that's the end of it!"

However, as all three of them neared the back door, Kurt once again caught sight of the arena's grand entrance where a long red carpet, grander than the one at the film premiere had been rolled out. A large crowd of paparazzi was snapping their cameras like maniacs on either side of the scarlet pathway while celebrities, representing all areas of the entertainment industry and the fashion world, were making their way inside, their designer outfits sparkling like impressive giant sequins as they disappeared within.

Craning his neck to catch a glimpse of a certain Puckerman amongst the glitterati, Kurt attempted to raise himself on tiptoes before a final wrench brought him back down to earth, blurring his focus and pushing him right before his entrance.

"There you are! Don't worry, we've found him! Hummel has arrived, he is here!

An assistant wearing a full black ensemble with the Salvatore Spectacle's logo printed on her tee shirt was yelling into a headset while she gestured with a clipboard that looked like some sort of weapon as she ran to him, brandishing the board before his taken aback face.

Removing Carmen's tight grip from his arm, Kurt rounded the steaming assistant but beckoned his unsure looking friends to follow. "No, I'm sorry Mr. Hummel, I cannot permit them to enter. You need to get yourself to the hair and makeup department now and get ready! The show starts in fifteen minutes! Move!"

"No, they're with me, they're... they're backstage camera crew assistants for CBS. They got lost trying to find their way in," Kurt explained rapidly as he forced his brain to conjure up a decent enough lie. It was somewhat believable. Lola didn't look like she knew squat about television production but seeing as they were all actors, it didn't take long for their skills in improvisation to whisk them past the surprised looking assistant. _Piece of cake,_ Kurt thought triumphantly as he shared a secret smile with them all _,_ Lola's triumphant giggles muffled by Carmen _'_ s hand. "Okay, guys, from now on you're going to have to pretend to be crew members or something, but friendly crew members. Not the grumpy ones."

"Believe us, Kurt, we're too high on life to be grumpy. Now, where are we... um... I think it's this way..." muttered Carmen as she pulled her hand away from Lola's smiling mouth to direct them all in the right direction.

That was the great thing about this Carmen. The girl could lead you of out of an expansive Tudor maze in less than a few minutes. Whether that was due to her vigorous Girl Scouts childhood or the various outdoor holidays in Canadian forests and Swiss mountains, Kurt didn't know, but whichever one it was, it had led them right into the center dressing room. "People, Kurt has to put his face on so we've got to stay out of the way! Come on!"

Pulling Carlson and Lola along with her to the back of the room, all three of them flashed him an encouraging smile before disappearing into the swarms of models, makeup artists, wardrobe assistants and directors, everyone flitting around like bees in their hive's throne room. The smell in the air was sickly sweet, a combination of overly expensive perfume and powder but as Kurt was suddenly directed to sit in front of a Hollywood-style vanity, its sides surrounded by flattering white bulbs that sizzled like beacons, he forgot all about it. He forgot everything as his face was transformed into that of a marble pixie, his body stripped to near nakedness and clothed with sex. Everything was forgotten for this night.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

The spectacle was in full swing by the time Inna was belting out her song, 'Un Momento', the singer dressed in a maroon summer suit, gold-framed knee-high boots, a Chanel diamond choker and her hair whipped up in a French-style bouffant. She held the microphone close to her mouth and made sure each spectacularly dressed model could easily be 'awwwed' at by every spectator and flashing camera, their figures dancing in the lights. Everything was going well. No one had taken an eye out with their four-inch heels, no light had fallen from its rigging and killed someone and no male audience member had jumped onto the stage to kidnap one of the female models. However, as the Romanian singer enthusiastically filled the arena with her bass thumping beats, a couple of meters away beyond the wave of an American flag and the wink of a smoky eye, panic was in the air.

Everyone backstage was desperately attempting to calm and smooth things over, with directors trying to get each model out of their previous outfit and into their next one in time, securing accessories to avoid loose bits falling off and all the while trying to prevent themselves from spontaneously combusting. Yes, everyone was acting as if the shit had hit the fan, yet Kurt seemed to have been the only one with as much docility as a lamb. He'd had his hair and makeup done to exquisite results, with his skin and hair never before looking so lusciously delectable, been squeezed into quite a comfy little number and had joined his little entourage at the back of the room, waiting patiently yet anxiously for his first appearance.

Not too long before an actual CBS interviewer had approached him to ask him a few questions regarding his 'newcomer' status in one of the hottest shows of the year, his skincare regimen and what he did to keep in shape. At first, Kurt had been caught off guard. He'd never been interviewed like this in his life, not with a huge-ass camera and fluffy microphone mere inches away from his face, and neither had anyone ever inquired into what he ate to stay slim, let alone what he used on his face. However in the end, refusing to imitate a gaping goldfish gasping for air, he'd smiled charmingly back and answered honestly, charismatically and ended the three-minute talk with a cheeky wink and a flirtatious blow of a kiss. He'd felt ridiculous doing it but he had the pout. He could pull it off.

Now, thirty minutes into the show, Kurt was fully immersed in a game of Mario Kart on Lola's candy pink Nintendo 3DS which she had kindly lent him. He would have thought there would be issues with sharing the console, since nothing interesting was happening but, contrary to his beliefs, both Carmen and Lola were having the time of their lives.

The two girls had taken advantage of this opportunity to find out what makeup products the professionals recommended and what little tricks they used to make their clients look that much better, the 'power of illusion' they liked to call it, a term which had prompted Kurt to roll his eyes. Carlson, by the looks of it, was also having a good time, a good time of helping a female model into a set of bejeweled underwear.

 _That's our Carlson,_ Kurt thought as he cheered happily, his character, Toad, having done well on the 150cc race by coming in an impressive third. Carlson might have had the moves with the ladies, but he had the moves with Princess Peach's virtual attendant.

Closing the 3DS with a quick snap, Kurt lifted his eyes and observed his surroundings. Nothing had changed. Everyone still looked as if they were on unhealthy amounts of steroids, what with their veins ready to pop at any minute, but as he was about to restart another race, he overheard the two 'Chatterbox Chicks' he'd had the misfortune of being near earlier that afternoon, talking to each other like there really was no tomorrow.

"I'm telling you, Noah Puckerman winked at me!"

"He did not!"

"He did. My God, I forgot how hot he is in real life!"

"How can you forget? Didn't you see the photos he posed for in for Teen Vogue's July issue?"

"Oh, the one where he was sitting on that motorbike wearing only leather? Yeah, I saw them. I remember drooling and then drooling some more. In fact, the only words that I ever said were, 'have mercy! Mercy, mercy, mercy!'"

"It's weird though. I read the interview and he said that he wouldn't be getting married for a while. Yet, a month later, he's engaged to that Fabray girl. I don't get it. I don't know what she did but she is one lucky bitch."

"Maybe she hypnotized him, or put Novocaine in her lipstick. I wouldn't say that anything screams foul play, but it is suspicious... Anyway, have you seen Puck's new buzz cut? It looks amazing! I'm telling you when you get a look, you're going to plotz!"

"I will, as soon as you calm down before you catapult yourself straight into his britches first. His fiancée is sitting right next to him and remember, we're the ones who are meant to be lusted after, not them."

 _That's true,_ Kurt thought as he tapped the 3DS absentmindedly against his chin. _We're the ones who are meant to be lusted after, not them._ With a smile as wide as a coat-hanger, Kurt found himself standing before his friends, all of them gazing back at him with nothing short of great anticipation. His scheduled appearance on the runway was nearing and as he was enveloped in yet another bone-crushing hug, his ears welcoming a thundering wave of 'good lucks' and 'you're going to kill it out there', this time he didn't pull back. However, with a sudden thought of his made-up appearance coming to mind, he froze.

"Guys, you're crumpling my outfit!" He pulled himself away from his friends before looking down at his clothes, the freshly laundered and steamed materials hinting at just a minimal set of creases here and there.

Strangely enough, during the hug, he had felt as though every single part of his body was being touched, as if he'd been thoroughly inspected for everything he had. It was weird and it was sweet of his friends to double check his body wasn't falling to pieces, but he didn't want any of them to get chucked out for manhandling one of the models. He was just going to have to avoid any member of the costume surveillance team for the time being, a task harder than one believed. "I can't afford wrinkles in my debut."

"Doll Face, there's not that much outfit to crumple," chuckled Carlson, Kurt blushing as looked down at his outfit once again. It was true. Apart from wearing pink and black Hi-Top trainers, which he hadn't been too sure about at first, he was wearing a Crayola-red off-the-shoulder chiffon tee shirt that had been cropped right above his belly button, a diamond-studded cross necklace that had been set aside from the Chanel vaults just for him, a richly ornamented baby crown that nestled comfortably amongst his cocoa curls and finally two large silk American flags tied to his denim hot-pants that flowed behind him as if they were made of air. "I mean, there's not that much hanging from your body. It's pretty limited, but don't worry, there's enough to leave some things to the imagination."

"Is it me, or will this man flirt with just about anything that moves," Kurt asked, ignoring Carlson's wandering eyes as he sped over to a wall-length mirror that had been propped up against a chair. He primped futilely, examining the flimsy yet damn expensive material hanging admittedly in all the right places before sighing in defeat. "Fine, I admit these stylists know what they're doing when it comes to flattering the human body, but it's all a bit much for me. I never dress like this. Not even when I'm by myself. It's like people here are purposefully trying to help rid me of feelings of embarrassment, self-consciousness or dignity so that when it comes to slapping on skimpy outfits, you won't put up much of a fight. For goodness sake, my dad's going to watch this when it airs! What is he going to say?"

"Kurt, calm down. You needn't feel ashamed of showing skin. You've got a great body, model-like in every way. You just need to let go of your inhibitions and learn that you're worth looking at," Carmen assured him as she appeared right behind him, both of them now staring at each other through the glass.

Rolling his eyes light-heartedly, Kurt giggled as both Carlson and Lola checked him out, nodding approvingly as they winked at his reflection.

"Just bring the attitude you had in those music videos of yours," Carmen added. "Channel that same energy, have fun and you'll have nothing to worry about. Alright, so most of the models here are more experienced than you. Fine, but you can do what they can do, only better. Go for it, Kurt."

"Hummel, get your ass down here now!"

The order came from near the catwalk entrance and as Kurt parted from his friends with a nervous smile, weaving his way to his position, he kept Carmen's last supportive words close to heart.

From his new vantage point by the catwalk, Kurt was now able to catch a proper look at the indescribable stage. Following the theme of vintage Americana and Hollywood, the long strip that ended with a large revolving circular platform had been decorated with mascot-sized American cultural icons dotted everywhere including a catcher's mitt, apple pie, the Statue of Liberty, Uncle Sam, an Eagle, Coca-Cola, All-Star Converse, a winged Chevrolet, with the glitter encrusted floor of the stage painted with the American flag. "You're on Hummel. Go!"

_As I'm going, going down I have dreamed a better place._  
_As the world turns round and round sun is always in my face_  
_Sometimes you go away a million miles away_  
_Sometimes you don't know where, don't worry I'll be there..._

The lights went out and music commenced. Kurt walked briskly onto the stage, the back light acting as the sole illumination in the vast hall, resulting in only his silhouette being visible. Positioning himself between the two white Georgian columns that represented those of the White House, his pale hands shook.

 _Holy mother of God_ , Kurt's mind gibbered as he now realized how huge the arena really was. It was insane. He'd never performed to a crowd this large before and to think that critics and celebrities were amongst them was just too overwhelming.

Taking a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves, Kurt launched himself into the choreography, performing a short ballet-inspired dance, his mind losing itself in the music as his conscience lost all awareness of the humongous crowd watching his mysterious silhouette.

_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_  
_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_

The spotlights came on as the curious audience finally saw the next model: an entrancingly cherubic boy. He was gliding his way effortlessly down the runway, the silk American flags floating behind him with such ease that anyone could mistake the charming creature for an angel. However, for Kurt, all focus was on maintaining grace, keeping his chin high and neck elongated as he joined Inna on the large circular platform.

Kurt flashed the cameras a million-dollar smile and glanced around the arena, his eyes flirting with every onlooker's they met. Despite looking as if he could see them, he couldn't. He couldn't make out anyone's face but he didn't need confirmation to know that he'd captured everyone's attention, and although the feeling rendered him extremely self-conscious, he ignored it in favor of putting on a show worthy of his talents.

_Now I close my eyes again and I'm thinking to myself,_  
_Will I ever love again? Hope you'll be a better man  
Sometimes you go away a million miles away_  
_Sometimes you don't know where_ _don't worry I'll be there..._

As soon as the bass kicked in, Kurt broke into dance. His silk flags swished around his long legs effortlessly while his diamond necklace swayed from side to side like a pendulum on his chest. His moves were quick and precise, moving stylishly to the beat, executed with a childlike innocence that morphed into a seductive panther, arousing, ever so arousing.

The fact that he'd danced to this very song in his bedroom back in Lima was a bonus and, as a result, it gave him courage to improvise, to add his own subtle twists with shoulder rolls here and hip twists there. It would have been wise to stick to the choreography the director had envisioned, it would have been professional, but he couldn't resist. When it came to dancing, the ultimate language of the body, there was no refusing whatever path the music led you on.

_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_  
_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_

Swiveling hot on his heels as he started making his way back down the runway, Kurt waved at the still entranced audience. The whole thing wasn't that bad. In fact, it was easy when one got over the crippling fear, and as Sigrid Agren entered the runway, the blonde beauty flashing him a wink as they passed one another, he did what Carmen had said to do, he let go of his inhibitions.

Looking back to the audience, the brunet smiled gleefully. His nerves were waning, his body was pulsating with electricity and his eyes were more alive than ever as he took in the flattering lights, the strums of the guitar in the music and the riveting atmosphere that all came together to drown him in a sea of adrenaline. His first walk down the catwalk was over. The exit was the final destination but as Kurt made to leave, he felt those hazel eyes on him, looking his way. _Him..._

_Sometimes you go away a million miles away  
Sometimes you don't know where, don't worry I'll be there..._

Noah Puckerman was staring right at him. New York's wealthiest and handsomest flirt was eyeing him heavily with a glint of something Kurt couldn't pinpoint. He wasn't smiling, smirking or anything; he wasn't even paying Sigrid any attention as she strutted by or Inna for that matter, as she cooed into her microphone.

The man's eyes were solely on him and it was amazing. Kurt could even see his face through all the commotion but there he was, illuminated amongst the suited men and their women. Now Kurt could understand why the girls backstage had nearly fainted in adoration at the sight of Puckerman. His looks were certainly 'hot' and 'amazing' but why he was looking at him he didn't know. He wasn't by far the most striking of models in the show, was he? So why were Puckerman's eyes scanning him like... like...

_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_  
_Can you bring me sunrise, can you bring me the sunrise?_  
_Can you bring the sun in my life?_

Snapping himself out of his trance, Kurt blew a farewell kiss out into the arena before exiting the stage. He had to escape the uncomfortable feeling that Puckerman had injected him with and not only that, but he was sure he'd looked out of place just oddly standing there fidgeting under a certain man's gaze. His exit had been effectively ruined.

 _Damn,_ he thought as he was shoved aside to give space for Sigrid's return. _I think I took away too many of my inhibitions._ Though, when he thought about it, none of it really mattered. His mind and soul were still pumped after his first strut and as he made his way over to his desk, he was just about to take a sip of his Evian when he was immediately bombarded by his trio of friends. They ran straight into him, almost taking out some of the vanity bulbs behind him with such enthusiasm it should have been illegal.

"Kurt, well done, you were amazing!" Lola brought the boy in for a deeper hug, crumpling his outfit to near disfigurement while all the while enforcing all the power in her little arms to crush him with surprising strength. It's not that Kurt didn't appreciate the exaggerated sentiment he was being showered with, but due to his committee of hyperactive friends, he was starting to garner looks. As if he hadn't been in the spotlight enough. "Couldn't have done it better myself!"

"She's right, Kurt," Carlson agreed as he retracted his arms and beamed at him, taking pity on the slightly nauseous look Kurt was now sporting. The healthy peach-toned color that seemed to radiate off Kurt's skin like good health in physical form now seemed to have disappeared, replaced with a sickly green color. However, Kurt's pallid appearance didn't take away any of his appeal, or judging by Lola and Carmen's faces, his desirability. "You were all kinds of sexy."

"Did you see their faces, though? Did you see them," gushed Carmen in barely concealed disbelief as she directed Kurt to the back of the room, weaving them through interviewers, boom mics and makeup artists as they traveled.

However, that didn't stop a number of friendlier models including the kooky British beauty Cara Delevingne, from stopping him to congratulate him on an 'awesome' debut, followed by a funny-faced Instagram picture that got shock-waves of laughter from both young models. "You must have seen it, Kurt. It was like you cast a spell over them or something."

"And did you see Puckerman? How he stared you down," whispered Lola excitedly as she sat beside Kurt, squishing him in between Carmen and herself. Due to the lack of space, the model's shoulders were forced forwards, hunching his back and caving his stomach. It did not look comfortable at all and as he politely signaled both of them to move before he developed a serious case of rickets, they obliged, giggling a set of apologies as he sighed in relief. "You should have seen how bewitched he was, Kurt. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Seriously it was like his pupils were glued to your every move."

"Well, duh!" exclaimed Kurt, rolling his eyes as he attempted to arrogantly deflect his real thoughts from his friends in fear that they might actually catch on. They weren't stupid. They could smell out a hidden secret from miles away and considering his face had always acted as an over expressive barometer to his emotions, he was even juicier prey. However in the end, it was all petty. There wasn't much interest but whatever was simmering inside Kurt, it didn't seem to be dying any time soon. "I'm a model, guys. If people's eyes weren't on me then something's gone wrong. In fact they're not meant to be looking us but the actual clothes on our backs. It's a fashion show, remember?"

"Kurt, you don't understand. We're not talking about the clothes here, we're talking about you," argued Carmen, the boy's regal attitude drooping as it became clear that she was determined to pursue this conversation. Persistence and the third degree in general was any hider's greatest enemy. It made or broke anyone when enforced on any given pressure but Kurt seemed determined to not to fall victim. Juicy gossip was like plant food to women and he was not going to find himself caught in a Venus fly trap. "He only had eyes for you out there. Screw Inna and the other models. They're all generic looking and_"

"Why are we focusing on Puckerman? Seriously, what is it about that man that fascinates people," Kurt complained as his expression soured into one of agitation, a forced huff of breath soon following as Carmen paused mid-speech.

This wasn't the first time Kurt had expressed disgust with Puckerman, and she didn't think it would be the last, considering the way they were going. All she could do now was close her chatting mouth in favor of thinking something more important: the true reason behind Doll Face's dislike of Puckerman.

"Carmen, there are hundreds more celebrities with eyes out there, you know," Kurt continued. "Puckerman was no different. Plus, I probably had them all staring with my chav like footwear and 'blinging' jewelery. God, I look like whored up pimp."

"Who cares about that? It's not like they're made by Nike or some high street brand," countered Carlson as Kurt looked up at the sudden rhetorical question. He hadn't known the man was there considering he'd been caught in between long hair, candy scented perfume and breasts ever since Kurt had walked off the catwalk but now that he knew, he silently cursed him for not seeing Carlson earlier. "Those trainers aren't 'chavy', they're street, and the diamonds, well, I'm no expert about stones but when it comes to Chanel, you can't go wrong... I guess. I don't know. Aren't you the one who told me fashion has no gender?"

"It's a fine line," replied Kurt, sighing heavily as he tiredly wiped off invisible dust from his attire. Checking the time on Carmen's watch, Kurt determined that he was to change soon. His next appearance was in ten minutes and although the baby crown he was wearing was very beautiful, the weight of its gems was starting to take their toll. No doubt he'd have to re-volumise his hair, undergo spray can after spray can of hair mist to bring buoyancy back into his curls but anything would do as a means of escape from the topic of conversation he loathed so much. "I better change into my next outfit if I don't want to be shouted at again."

"Take your time! We'll be here talking about you and your future husband!" joked Lola, her high voice hitting Kurt's ears like an amused siren. It was so easy for the girl to know that he was dodging her chosen topic as well as them, but she couldn't help her fun from fading away. Kurt had captured Noah Puckerman's attention just like many a model had done in the past but the twist that seemed to surge like an undercurrent before all their eyes was that their very own doll was a boy.

Quinn Fabray may have snagged herself a handsome fiancé in the space of a few weeks, but Kurt had unknowingly snagged the very same man in the space of three minutes. Now that spoke volumes...


	7. The Padova Pad

Stepping out into the dark alleyway, wary to wrap themselves warmly before they braved the dropping temperatures, Kurt and his friends exited the stage door of the arena and began making their way towards the street. They huddled together as closely as possible, bringing their coats right up past their necks and as they enthusiastically chatted about what a success the spectacle had been, New York's chilly air seemed to bother them less and less. However it was no surprise. No one was expecting the show to be anything less than spectacular. In fact, because of its 25th anniversary, the pressure had been up higher than ever before to make this year's show _the_ show to remember for years to come, and to think Kurt had taken part. It was hard to come to grips with.

In total, Kurt had made four appearances on the runway, including the finale where all the models came together to walk down the runway as one. All four times he had looked his best, dressed in splashes of light summertime clothing sheer enough to blush and all four times he had rivaled the camera's flash with the gleam of his smile. He had attempted to keep his eyes trained and focused, expression charming and overall presence alluring, but not even the elegant _pas de bourrée_ or free spin was enough to prevent the eyes from distraction. Noah Puckerman, whose fixated irises had burned into him like lasers, had proved to be the ultimate obstacle, the main obstacle to an otherwise perfect night.

However, from what he could decipher, there was no sexual undercurrent, nothing to suggest the man was aroused. Why would he be? The man was straighter than Zeus, though the things that came flying out of Carmen and Lola's mouths seemed to heavily challenge that. Each time Kurt would finish a stint on the catwalk, he was bombarded time and time again with comments regarding Puckerman's 'shifting eyes' that seemed to blanket him in nothing but want. It was ridiculous. He'd blamed his friends' delusions on the fumes of fake tan, alcohol and heat but no, nothing seemed more important to them than the great influence he had over the man. It had, in the end, almost cost them their places there, after the tempting thought of calling in pest control came to near execution, or of course strangling them with a Gucci belt.

Now they were heading to the after-party, an event so rambunctious that it equalled the notoriety of the show itself, and Kurt didn't want to go. He didn't have the energy to attend such a party, what its ear-splitting music, overly rich food and company that was as critical of you as Anna Wintour herself. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that he had a duty to be there, as if it was compulsory to attend for those who had been the show. However Carlson, Carmen and Lola had all begged to differ, blaming it on his lack of party history. They'd claimed that because high school life had deprived him of such an event, the word 'party' only served to conjure up vile imagery of years of social rejection and shunning, a set of years best left forgotten.

The party itself was to be hosted in traditional fashion at a large venue owned by the Puckermans, The Padova Pad, a brand new luxury rooftop club constructed especially for high-profile parties and social events. It wasn't reputedly known to be the setting behind any of Noah Puckerman's frivolous gatherings, the young man's penthouse being the capital for it all, but was used instead for more formal soirees of a milder manner. Said to have cost several millions to construct, the pad had been designed by a South Korean architect who had been employed by Emily Puckerman after a recent trip to Seoul had opened her eyes to how far advanced the modern age had evolved in the East. 'Near alien,' she had described it when she was interviewed after the completion of the club. 'Made the buildings here in the West resemble little mud huts.'

However, despite its sci-fi looks that made it stand out beautifully from all the other New York clubs around, Kurt wondered if it was too delicate to house such obnoxious partying. Its vanilla record was surely going to become tainted after tonight, but then again, there was the possibility that these fashion show after parties weren't as crazy as everyone claimed they were. Were they just mere rumors made up by people wanting to popularize them, or by prudes who had walked in on some lucky man canoodling with a model? The truth could never be fully extracted from speculation and as Kurt gave into his friends' whining demands to hit the club, he hoped that by end of it all, he wouldn't be foaming at the mouth and stinking of piss in the gutter. God forbid.

The distance between the arena and the club wasn't great. In fact, it only took ten minutes by car, twenty by foot and although it would have done them all a world of good to sit down and rest their feet after several hours of non-stop gallivanting, they didn't. Air was much needed. In fact, it had got so awfully stuffy backstage that Kurt had begun to fear for his lungs, citing that fresh oxygen had been replaced with makeup particles and how passive cigarette smoking never did anyone any good. Many others, though, had not followed in their footsteps. As soon as the show had ended they had jumped into the nearest black car and sped off to the after party, not leaving enough time to even take whiff of fresh air. _When will they learn?_

"Have any of you actually seen or been to this club?" Kurt's question got him a squinty look from Lola. Of course they hadn't been to it. If it was hard for certain celebrities to enter the Padova Pad, then there really was no hope for the 'nobodies'. However, the opportunity to mingle in such a setting had arisen now so it was no wonder all three of them had jumped on the idea. They would have been majorly stupid if they hadn't. "Yeah, I heard about it. Anyway, I just hope you guys can get in. You were lucky enough the first time."

"Lucky enough in the sense that we managed to fool the assistant at the door or lucky in the sense that we managed to avoid being kicked out by you," Lola asked as Kurt rolled his eyes. Alright, so he'd been a little hard on them towards the end but there was only so much gossip concerning Noah Puckerman he could take. Hopefully now they had learned their lesson and thoughts of the heir wouldn't even cross the minds, not with all the alcohol Kurt was planning on ladling down their throats. "Don't worry Kurt, we get it. You're not a fan of Puckerman. It's no big deal. Let's just enjoy tonight."

"Are you sure, because I know what fans you are of the man. Look, I know he's huge here but I'd prefer to talk about stuff that has more relevance to us than about him," Kurt replied truthfully as he shuffled in between them, rubbing each of their arms comfortingly as he tried to get his point across. "I infinitely prefer your company over some of the models, I do, but if you keep on talking about how hot Puckerman is then you're no more intellectually stimulating than they are."

"I hate those models. All they do is go out of their way to destroy otherwise rational individuals in their presence. I mean, I tried to maintain a normal conversation with one earlier but it was like she didn't have the brains to string a coherent sentence together," Lola rambled as she gestured disbelievingly into the air.

Lola Jacobs was by far no bimbo, contrary to the blondie-like Lolita image she had going on. In fact, she was actually quite smart. Though it was just a side she didn't bring out all that often as she claimed she feared that anything she said had the possibility of being made fun of.

"There are some that allow themselves to become willing victims to men who decide to date them as a competitive sport or for their own slime ball compulsive need for validation. It's so loose, it makes me sick. I mean no wonder people refer to them as high-class escorts," she finished.

"They do? Oh God, that's terrible. I thought that they were merely referred to as divas with overinflated narcissistic issues worth going to a psychologist for," Kurt replied as he began to worry for his new occupation. He hadn't given much thought about the stereotypes of models before he'd become one, but now that they were flying out of his friend's mouth, he was doing some serious evaluating. Maybe male models were seen differently. Maybe only female models were considered the dumb ones, as sexist as that sounded, but then again, their sexualities were hardly questioned compared to the men. "I don't want to be stereotyped into being unintelligent. I've been stereotyped enough in my life."

"Honey, not all models are as thick or as loose as Paris Hilton. There will be some that will even sit and read through a whole magazine from cover to cover," teased Carmen, laughing as Kurt rolled his yet again. This was such a petty argument. By now Kurt should have learned to disregard ignorance, what with having been the sole openly gay student at his high school, but now that he was no longer in its halls but in the realms of New York, everything had changed. "No seriously, I think you're taking this stereotype business a bit far. There's nothing to worry about. You know you're not stupid, we know you're not stupid, and if anyone judges you on your occupation without getting to know you, fuck 'em. Their prejudice isn't worth it."

"Take Charlize Theron for example, Kurt," explained Lola as she squeezed her way into Carmen's place, now walking alongside Kurt as they turned onto the street of the club. "She's the successful spokesperson for Dior J'Adore, she's an Academy Award and Golden Globe-winning actress and she actively supports women's rights, animal rights and same-sex marriage. She's charismatic in interviews and puts some models to shame by not going 'um', and 'um' and 'um' some more."

"Plus she's hot," Carlson suddenly added as Kurt, Carmen and Lola whipped their heads around to face him. The brunet had almost forgotten about Carlson during their talk, probably because the man was towards the back acting like some sort of barrier against whoever might jump out at them, but as the girls exchanged bored looks followed by a series of eye-rolls to further dismiss the crude comment, Kurt smiled. Removing himself from Lola's side, Kurt went to join Carlson at the back, gladly taking the arm the older man offered him. "Well she is, right? Don't you think so?"

"Of course I do," Kurt agreed, giving Carlson a little light-hearted nudge as he giggled. He didn't want the man to feel uncomfortable spending time with them just because he was the only one there attracted to women. Kurt liked having Carlson around. He felt safe around him. The man was friendly, had a sense of humor that could ease most tense situations and a flirtatious attitude that definitely knew no boundaries. "I must admit she was beautiful as Queen Ravenna, except at the end when wrinkle-ville came to town. Nasty."

As they approached the Padova Hotel, the white-based building on which the pad was built, all four of them stopped in their tracks to marvel at the odd-looking sight. Contrary to the club's almost out-of-this-world design, the hotel's architecture very much resembled the Art Nouveau, with all its hyperbola and parabola doors, windows and arches decorated with molding that 'grew' into plant-derived forms. It all gave it a sense of harmony, a peaceful sight that was ruined by the sounds of the paparazzi snapping away and yelling at the various models and celebrities as they posed in front of the hotel's grand entrance, the asymmetrical shapes of shells and water that had been carved into the white stone above acting as a marvelous backdrop for them for all.

"I don't think we're going to be able to sneak in the back this time Kurt," Carlson said in a hushed tone as they neared the palace-like hotel, the stunning building looking as if it had been plucked right out of 19th Century Paris.

It was true. There was going to be no easy way to sneak them all in undetected. Kurt would get in fine but he couldn't leave his friends behind. He felt naked without them. However as Carlson unsuccessfully scoured the area for some God-given opportunity of entrance, all he managed to land his eyes on was a security guard by the main door, the chance to enter fading rapidly.

"Fuck, okay, Kurt, you see that guard over there by there? Near where that woman is standing? If you tell him we're part of your entourage, we may stand a chance."

"Yeah, but don't look down or shift your eyes whilst you do it. Security guards are like human lie detectors. They always have the sixth sense about when you don't tell truth," Carmen instructed as she went to stand in front of him, looking deep into his blue eyes as if she were trying to telepathically tell him what his next set of moves were to be. It was all fruitless and at the same time, a little unnerving, but as an idea popped into her head, it proved to be somewhat beneficial. "What you do is you go up to him, say clearly who you are and er... um... think of something. Go!"

Without a second to protest or rethink the hurriedly hatched plan, Kurt had found himself in front of the hotel's entrance in the flash of a camera, the chanting shouts of the photographers instructing him to face them, to turn this way and that and to generally show off those pearly white teeth. He did his best, offering them all the expressions he had practiced over and over again in the mirror at home but he soon found himself more preoccupied with thoughts about how he was to convince security that his friends weren't celebrity stalkers, undercover journalists or drug dealers, than posing prettily for a nice picture.

He had to be convincing, sly and attempt to be half the actor his friends were and so, as he was ushered away from the front doors, Kurt neared the tight-lipped security guard with harsh features and fierce eyes. This was it. He couldn't go back now. He tried to prevent the words 'set up to fail' from echoing around his mind but they seemed to really reflect his situation. _Damn_. Clearing his throat, Kurt made to speak but looked around to see where his friends had hidden themselves. They were nowhere in sight. Gone.

 _Great,_ thought Kurt sarcastically as he turned to face the guard once again, the man looking down at him warily as he waited for words to start forming themselves on his flaccid tongue. _I can't do this with invisible friends!_ _He'll think I'm nuts!_

Here went nothing.

"Um... yes, hello sir, my name is Kurt Hummel. I modeled in the Salvatore Spectacle earlier this evening. I was wondering, if it's not too much to ask, if you could help with something..."

**.**

 

**Glee**

**.**

The party was in full swing by the time Kurt and his friends had stepped out of the elevator and arrived at the Padova Pad, the luxurious futuristic rooftop club that indeed boasted one of the greatest examples of modern architecture they had ever come across. Unlike the opulent hotel down below that oozed Parisian influence and stature, the Pad's layout was quite different. A large glass dome that seemed to float above them and allow ones eye to see the stars, had been built on one half of the roof, sheltering and housing the elevator, the bar, the dance floor and all other remaining amenities. Towards the other half of the roof lay a sprawling kidney-shaped pool with _en suite_ hot-tub surrounded by exotic Mexican Blue palms, flower pots of American Beauties and strategically placed lounge chairs, love sofas, four-poster beds and other bedroom furniture that had been specifically built for outdoor use.

Without time to delve deeper into a world so unlike his own, Kurt was grabbed by Carmen as she all but dragged him and Lola through the club, passing the guitar-lulling strums of the dance floor, the delicious smells of Goi Cuon, Giò lụa and Bánh cuốn from the oriental bar and the hum of conversation that filled the air as they weaved their way through well-dressed guests towards the one of the Venice day beds outside. The polished decking that been elevated above ground level meant that one could see the whole Pad from outside and as Kurt nestled against one of the bed's cushions, he returned to gazing around him keenly, spotting Carlson emerging from the swarming dome with a silver tray laden with multi-colored cocktails poured generously into Hurricane glasses.

Waving him over, Carmen directed Carlson over to them, her experienced hands making quick work of distributing the drinks amongst them with Lola being handed a piña colada garnished with a pineapple wedge, Carlson a Manhattan on the rocks, Kurt a Swiss strawberry and lime cider and finally selecting herself a Blue Hawaii topped with a maraschino cherry.

The cider was divine as the complementary fruits fused together to create an even better taste but Kurt knew better than to televise his enjoyment of a beverage he was illegally drinking, no matter how mild it was to others on the menu. He wasn't a fan of alcohol in the first place, with only a few he had known to stomach, but he wasn't about to pass up on one that tasted like heaven at his first real party. Oh, if only his high school peers could see him now.

What was great about the Padova was not only its impressive appearance and five-star rating but the atmosphere it seemed to exude. It was as if the building emitted its own calming agent, relaxing everybody, even the party into a sort of overtly laid-back daze, because what Kurt could now definitely put to rest were the rumors of the Salvatore Spectacle after parties. No one was drunk, no one was creating a disturbance or unsettling others and no one was acting anything less than dignified. The air was crisp with the hum of conversation and laughter and everyone was behaving like adults, sensibly and with proper decorum. However, having said that, Kurt had never felt more like a teenager in all his life. Despite turning twenty this upcoming May, he felt as though his youthful looks were now magnified by everyone's manners, with the only mature feature about him being his drink which he'd finished.

"Hummel?! There you are, Hummel, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

A shrill voice caused Kurt to jump and bumping into Lola, causing her open mouth to miss her cocktail straw. Like dominoes, heads began turning around to see none other than the spectacle's director frantically running over to Kurt, her pale face flushed the color of beetroot. This did not look promising. "Right, I'm trying to round up all the models who were in the show. Mr. Puckerman is here and he would like to be introduced and offer you all his compliments. Come along."

"No thank you, I'd rather stay right where I am if you don't mind. I have company," Kurt replied calmly as he discreetly hid his empty glass behind his back, Carmen watching him with a frowning gaze as he indicated to them before throwing the gaping director a charming smile.

Kurt knew very well what he was expected to do, be rounded up like cattle before some drooling man. It was humiliating. It wasn't like he'd been in the Royal Variety Performance followed by the privilege of shaking hands with Queen Elizabeth II herself. No, he was to be paraded like pretty meat. "I'm sure Mr. Puckerman will understand, and I'm glad he thought we did so well but I don't think_"

"Maybe I'm not making myself clear. Mr. Puckerman has requested to meet _all_ models who were in the show, no excuses accepted, no arguments entertained," the director seethed, her patience returning slightly as she observed the fake smile all over Kurt's face disappear into one of frustrated agitation, his blue eyes darkening in protest. "Look young man, you will do this, you will meet him and while you are clubbing it under his roof, you will obey him, because frankly if you don't I will ask security to escort your 'company' from the premises. What's it going to be?"

"All you needed to do was say it was compulsory. I didn't know King Puckerman's orders had to be carried out at the risk of losing your head," Kurt hissed as he stood up, ignoring the apologetic expressions on his friends' faces as he was rudely manhandled back into the dome, the flattering light from the blown glass chandelier casting rendering everyone more good-looking than they really were.

Truth be told, he would sacrifice this whole evening for his friends if he had the chance. They deserved it, and the thought of having them thrown out due to his stubbornness just came off as selfish and ungrateful. "Believe me, I am one of the most pacifist of creatures you will ever come across but if you don't unhand me now, I will reach for a shovel," he growled now at the director.

"Fine, get yourself in line then. Your attitude is already beyond disgraceful," the director retorted as Kurt threw her a livid look before joining the end of the line on the dance floor.

It's what he had expected. The director had, indeed, rounded up every model like show dogs although, unlike Kurt, their faces were shining bright with enthusiasm. It was so obvious he could even smell the anticipation reeking off the chatterbox chicks a few models down and as he huffed in silence, he looked back around at his friends over by the pool, their contented faces indicating a well enjoyed night. "Alright, everyone; for God's sake neaten up. You're embarrassing me... Oh... good evening, Mr. Puckerman."

Snapping his head around, as if the name that had just been uttered were some kind of alarm, Kurt peered around his neighbor to see the director shaking hands with Noah Puckerman a few meters away, Quinn Fabray by his side along with a few other men and women who Kurt assumed were part of Puckerman's entourage.

The billionaire had appeared out of nowhere, as if he'd just teleported out of thin air in front of them; or just maybe Kurt had been too preoccupied envying his friends from afar as they mindlessly chatted without him, Carmen and Lola sending him indiscreet winks as they pointed with gusto to the tanned man. Yes, life had brought Puckerman into his through the gossip of overexcited girls but now, unfortunately, it was about to get a whole lot more personal.

Puckerman, by the looks of it, had not skimped on looking his best before some of the most beautiful people in New York. He'd downgraded from his suit into a casual yet classy outfit consisting of a jet black shirt with its top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to boast stretches of beige skin and delicious musculature. Below were rich denim jeans that had been whiskered and faded for effect and as footwear, rustic diesel boots with loosened laces. It was fashionable, cool and ever so masculine. It was a look Puckerman knew he could pull off well and as he began shaking hands, introducing himself and reducing once-proud models into giggling schoolgirls with a flash of that signature smirk, Kurt soon found himself as the sole bearer of his own dignity. It felt nice.

"And, last but not least, a fresh face to Elite Model Management, Kurt Hummel," the director introduced as Kurt froze. He'd been in the middle of signalling to Carlson to get him another cider when he was now faced with a mouth that was too parched to speak and a chest that was too tight to breathe. He felt like he was suffocating but as he forced himself to breathe as evenly as he could after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his gaze to meet the warm hazel eyes of Noah Puckerman.

Silence. All that was heard was the clinking of toasting glasses and the sounds of ambient music in the background as the handsome billionaire and the flustered model with Twiggy-like doe eyes stared at each other as if they had never seen another human being quite like them.

It was the strangest set of minutes Kurt had ever experienced but as the famed flirt stared right back at him, his mouth slightly agape, it gave the brunet the chance to examine his face.

Noah had neatly-groomed stubble covering his chiseled jawline that traveled across the top of his Cupid's bow and down to his chin, along with his buzz cut giving him a more mature appearance, his gorgeous overall features from his cheek bones to his full lips boasting the very best work of the gods themselves. Time seemed to go on forever until, with the sealing of a mouth and a morphing of an attractive smile, Noah raised his right eyebrow slightly and lifted his large, ever so masculine hand for a handshake.

"It's a pleasure to_"

"I'm sorry, I can't!" blurted Kurt loudly as his eyes blew wide. What was he doing? He'd merely wished upon a shooting star not to be here, not that he would publicly embarrass himself with word vomit, but then again his runaway mouth had given him a chance to flee and one thing he'd learned so far about chance-filled opportunities in New York was that you never said no. However, everyone from Noah, Quinn, the director, his fellow models and the rest of Puckerman's entourage was frowning at him as if he had just broken out in a spontaneous case of mild Tourette's. "I deeply apologize, Mr. Puckerman, but I… I, um... I've just remembered I've got another engagement. If you will please excuse me..."

Swiveling on his heel without a single backward glance, Kurt briskly returned to his friends in the wake of a small crowd of speechless faces and one of heavy disappointment. It was obvious his little trio had been keeping an eye on the situation from afar; how could they not have as soon as he caught Lola using her hands as makeshift binoculars, because as soon as he laid eyes on both girls' shocked faces as well as Carlson's hysterical bouts of laughter, he knew he had been incredibly rude. It was sickening. He ought to have been fully ashamed of himself but unfortunately it was too late; guilt had been replaced by fear. Fear of a kick out of the door's club by a certain director's heels.

"Well, I guess this means the party's over for us. It was fun while it lasted," Carmen said wistfully as all three of them put down their empty glasses and stood up, welcoming Kurt back with exasperated looks.

It would have been so easy to get angry right now, to throw lines like 'what the hell is wrong with you?!', 'why the hell did you do that?!' and 'you're a bad person!' but they didn't. They held off the rounds of bullet-like words in favor of a hug as they witnessed the remorse shining bright in Kurt's eyes, the way his once-exuberant face now fell in regret. _What is going on within this boy to make him act like he did with Puckerman,_ Carmen wondered as the mystery thickened. _Something took control of him._ "Let's go."

"No, you guys stay here, I'll take Kurt home. I can't stay up late anyway, I've got to be at the theater at seven tomorrow morning," Carlson offered as he wound an arm around Kurt's shoulders, steering him away as both girls made to object but relented with nods.

Kurt just hoped they wouldn't run into trouble. He had nearly ruined their night with his little stunt and was cutting short Carlson's. It wasn't fair to them. As they took the long route round to the elevator, the prospect of bumping into anyone from earlier very likely, Carlson turned with regret, knowing this was the worst of times. "Kurt, I need the loo. If I don't go now, I'll probably explode on our way back and that sure as hell will be embarrassing."

"What? You only had one Manhattan the whole time you were here. One cocktail can't be enough to fill the bladder of a fully grown man, can it?" Kurt whined in dismay, the grip on Carlson's arm becoming so tight that the man had to almost fight his way out as he struggled to leave.

However it was obvious by the way Carlson had looked over at him with a knowing look that at least two more Manhattans had met the same fate as the first one and as Kurt watched him head back into the club, he really had to question the man's alcoholic self-control. Though what was he going to do, sue him? It was a club, for heaven's sake. _Urgh,_ _men..._ "Grow a bigger bladder! I'm going down to the foyer so I'll you meet you_"

"Hi... Kurt?" A husky voice sounded behind Kurt causing the boy's eyes to widen as his finger froze on the elevator button in mid push.

Due to each sliding lift door consisting of a full length mirror, Kurt was able to see exactly who had uttered the greeting, but he didn't need to put a face to a voice he remembered from only a few minutes ago. He didn't even want to be near the man behind him, but as he slowly turned around to face the expectant Puckerman heir, the man's hand jammed into the pocket of his jeans while the other held a glass of scotch whiskey, he nodded in confirmation of the name. "Hi... um... I just wanted to catch you before you left, wanted to tell you how well you did this evening, and for a beginner too. You were great."

"Well, thank you. It's always nice to receive validation from successful people," replied Kurt, grateful that Noah wasn't judging him harshly for his behavior earlier, though it only seemed to make him feel worse.

At this point in time, for all the man's cheekiness, he was by far a better person than Kurt and he would have said so if Noah hadn't chuckled deeply at the compliment. It was the kind of chuckle warm enough to melt chocolate but before Kurt could continue guessing what other confections the man's laughter could dissolve, the elevator bell chimed and its doors slid open. "I'm sorry again Mr. Puckerman but I must be off. It was a pleasure meeting you and, er... yeah, thank you for the party. This place truly is breathtak_"

"Wait, don't go... I mean, let me come with you... please?" Noah interrupted quickly as the sudden plea caught Kurt off guard, sending him stumbling backwards against the wall of the elevator, his hands splayed behind him for support. He had just been in the middle of backing into the lift when it happened and now that he was in, Noah leapt inside, punched the button for the ground level and watched as the Padova Pad disappeared behind sleek mirrored doors. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I've just got to get somewhere quiet. I can't take these crowds. You don't mind do you?"

"No, not at all... but what's wrong with 'those crowds'? All the models, your friends... your fiancé are all there," Kurt replied, peeling himself away from the wall as he rearranged his frazzled outfit. The James Dean-influenced combination of skin-tight jeans and a white polo shirt topped with a petit pea coat wouldn't have been an outfit hard to disturb but yet here he was, straightening everything out until he caught sight of Noah's gaze on him, focused and trained, just as like at the spectacle. "I mean... well, I mean... why not?"

"I've pretty much met everyone there. From the models, the photographers, the designers, and every other famous face you've got. They're no strangers," explained Noah as the elevator began its quick decent, Kurt tearing his eyes from him in favor of reacquainting himself with the first elevator he'd seen constructed entirely out of mirrors. "Don't get me wrong, most of them are alright, but the novelty wears off faster than you think and you're left with someone who hasn't that much to say. Before Quinn, I once saw that as a good thing... you know... when approaching the ladies. I didn't want to talk. All I wanted was to do was_"

"Speaking of Quinn, congratulations on your engagement," Kurt interrupted quickly, the words flying out as if they were as desperate as he was to swerve the conversation away from Noah's previously promiscuous life. He didn't want to talk about such things. It made him awfully uncomfortable and it only seemed to reinforce what the press actually wrote about this man, whether Noah was aware of it or not. He also felt that such a conversation was inappropriate when a diamond engagement ring was on your finger, as if it was a wireless microphone that allowed Quinn to hear everything from hers. "Both of you are very lucky. When's the big day?"

"You don't come from around here do you," Noah asked, ignoring Kurt's question with nothing more than an uninterested look and a final gulp of his drink.

Kurt frowned. He'd only had suspicions of a staged couple appearance but he hadn't given it too much thought. He hadn't been interested but now that, coupled with this, tripled with Quinn's uncaring attitude towards the flirtatious behavior between the models and her future husband earlier, it all started to intrigue him. What was going on?

"Kurt? You're not from New York are you? You just don't look like you do."

"No, actually I was born in Columbus but raised in Lima, Ohio. You won't have heard of it. It's a city 72 miles from Dayton and 78 from Toledo," Kurt explained as Noah shrugged and shook his head.

In some way, Kurt was glad Noah wasn't familiar with Lima. Talking about one of the worst places a boy like him could have been raised was painful enough. Looking at Noah, though, it didn't seem that Kurt was the sole one in pain.

"I know where you come from though," he continued. "You were born in Washington D.C., lived there as a child and then you when you entered high school, you moved to New York. It tied in with your family's future plans for you to go to Harvard, which you do. Although I don't know what you're studying..."

"You're the first. I'm majoring in business and economics. Surprise," informed Noah sarcastically.

The elevator reached the ground floor and no sooner had its doors opened then Noah had sighed and walked out, leaving Kurt's frown in his wake.

"No, seriously, it's hard to surprise anyone when everyone knows your business. I haven't had a two-sided 'get to know you' conversation with anyone for years and it's fucking depressing. I come across loads of people like you claiming they know me just because they've researched me on Wikipedia or constantly read about me in the papers. God, sometimes I feel as though my life has been claimed... and there's no possible way of getting it back."

"I never claimed I knew you," Kurt retorted. "I just know vague bits and pieces of your life, and the only reason I do is because people here can't stop talking about you. Even my friends are obsessed."

They stepped out into the hotel's opulent lounge, the style now having evolved into a mixture of both Art Nouveau and Modern Age, with low-lit Edwardian crystal chandeliers illuminating hi-tech looking coffee tables, couches and chairs, all enriched with a complimentary cream and scarlet color scheme. Now Kurt knew why Noah had escaped here. The place was deserted. "To tell you the truth, you've surprised me, Noah... as cliché as that sounds."

"Thanks... I guess. Almost forgot that feeling," Noah answered quietly, a small smile stretching his lips as he lounged on one of the plush couches by the arched windows, the streams of the moonlight offering a beautiful contrast to the warm orange tint of the chandeliers. Kurt didn't know what to make of this man. One minute he was supposed to be this savvy, swaggering womanizer with just the mere sight of his body acting as an open invitation to you-know-what and the next, a distressed soul who spurted heartfelt revelations. _What the hell?_   "So um... if you're not from around here, why are you here?"

"I came for work experience at a community theater, staying for modelling jobs on runways," replied Kurt simply as he went to sit on the armless chair opposite Noah, settling into it and brushing invisible dust from his coat. However while he did, he wasn't aware that Noah was noting down his every graceful move and he didn't know the man was studying his face, an angelic face that displayed no prejudice, no judgment but only acceptance. In Noah's eyes, it was just the face he needed.

To Kurt, Noah Puckerman's behavior was nothing like it ought to have been. It was like the man was sedated or tranquillized after having secretly taken something but all those possible factors only led to questions about Noah's true feelings behind the arrogant mask he'd built over the years for everyone around him. Despite having been born into one of the richest families in the world and history itself, despite attending the best university the planet had to offer and despite the lifestyle even deities would envy, was Noah Puckerman… happy? "Forgive me Mr. Puckerman but are you_"

"Please, don't call me that. Call me Noah, Kurt. Call me Puck or even the 'Party-Rocking Puckerman' name they like to call me but, please, anything but... that," Noah pleaded as he sat forward to hunch himself over the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands, as he closed his eyes.

Feeling a sudden dip in the couch, Noah lifted his head to see Kurt sitting next to him, his knees tucked under him as he rested his arm on the back of the seat, an apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, you didn't know," Noah said softly. "That name reminds me too much of my old man. Plus it makes me sound older."

"A man is not old until his regrets replace his dreams, Noah, but then again no one is ever old enough to know better," replied Kurt, muttering the line quietly as he closed his eyes, feeling the blue rays of the moonlight drenching his face. Losing himself in a tranquil like state, the boy only felt the shuffling of a body and a dip of the couch to know that Noah had neared him, his skin sensing the man's eyes roaming his serene expression with nothing short of increasing interest. "Want to guess who said those lines_"

"What were you going to ask, Kurt?" Noah inquired curiously as he watched the most gorgeous set of eyes slowly reveal themselves.

He'd noticed Kurt's were brilliant blue but now that he had positioned his head directly into the moonlight's path, it was as if they had tripled in saturation. They were more vivid, more concentrated, stronger and so precious, as if Kurt's eyes had been carved right out of the Hope Diamond. He didn't know it, it must have been his mind, but the nearer he came to Kurt's face, the nearer his body neared until with a brush of legs, there was contact. "Go on, Kurt, please. I won't mind."

"It's not my business to inquire since I've only just met you but I was going to ask if you were..." Kurt hesitated as he took in the expression on Noah's face that looked like it didn't come out for just anyone, as if Kurt had been granted a rare audience with Noah's face in its barest, most naked form. There was no trademark smirk, not a single hint of sexual desire, flirtation or any other expression of that nature for which he was famous. They had long been wiped away, nowhere to be seen, leaving behind an even better-looking man; Noah. "... to ask you if you were... happy?"

"Shit, no one's asked me that in a long time," breathed Noah as he pulled away from his close position to Kurt in favor of leaning back against the couch, a small chuckle escaping his chest. Bringing a hand to his forehead, he rubbed at it before widening his eyes several times. The question was obviously asked out of simple curiosity but there something not so general or blasé about the way it was asked. The expression on the boy with skin like porcelain and eyes as deep as the ocean itself was that of genuine caring and it surprised him. "Well_"

_"Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it."_

Kurt smiled as he finished. "Sorry, I had to say that. It's a quote my mom once told me before she died from cancer when I was eight. I think it's by Groucho Marx. I don't know whether it completely correlates to how you feel but it helped me realize that life is too short to be unhappy, but it's your choice on how you live it," Kurt explained as Noah's attention almost blacked out at the mention of the loss of his mother. Poor boy.

"It's a quote that did me good, even though it was hard to live up to when I was in high school," Kurt continued softly. "I learned to never let people determine how I lived my life, choose which days I would be happy. It wasn't up to them, Noah, they didn't have that right. No one has 'power' to bring you happiness… but you."

"K-kurt..." Noah stuttered, taking hold of Kurt's hands and warming them up in his as he looked at the boy softly, his throat gulping with emotion.

He knew it was being forward but he had to touch this boy before him. He seemed insightful, good and despite his doubts as to whether his quote related to Noah or not, it did. More than Kurt would ever know. Now, with contact sending a rush through his veins, Noah had to know if Kurt was real, not an hallucination but the model's eyes widened at their entwined hands, as if Kurt hadn't anticipated he'd be touched by Noah... or any other man. "Kurt, I'm_"

"There you are, Kurt. I've finally found you. God, no wonder that pissed off director chick had a hard time finding you, you're like master of concealment," Carlson announced as he entered the foyer from the elevator.

Kurt removed his eyes from Noah's near-welling ones to his friend entering the lounge, watching as Carson made his way through the different sets of furniture and upholstery until he reached them with a pleased look on his face, as if he was as proud as a child winning a game of Hide and Seek.

Quickly snatching his hands from Noah's, Kurt stood up and joined Carlson, his face wiping off the emotional conversation from earlier in favor of a small smile.

Carson looked between the two men. "Oh, I'm sorry, was I interrupting something? I didn't mean to, I was just wondering if you were ready to go, Kurt, but if you're not then_"

"No, it's alright. I am ready. I'm sorry, I should have waited in the foyer like I said," Kurt apologized as Carlson dismissed him light-heartedly, allowing Kurt to lead the way back towards the foyer with a hand in the small of his back.

However as the boy exited the lounge, he looked around back at Noah. The man had stood but had not moved from his position by the windows, his eyes forever on him. He truly looked like a lonely figure in the midst of this world, a lost soul that didn't know what to do with himself and so with a final blink, Kurt said goodbye. "It was nice meeting you… Noah. I'll see you around…"

"Wait, Kurt," cried Noah as he all but sprinted towards him, jumping over couches and dodging chairs to reach them as if a timer had gone off, as if Kurt were going to disappear and never be seen again. Now, however, as the model was faced with a panting man before him, his cheeks flushed and his feet shuffling with nerves, he couldn't help but beam. "Kurt, I'd really like to... see you again, not just 'see you around'. I don't want to run into you by chance or rely on these parties to meet up. Is it alright with you if we could... exchange numbers... maybe?"

"Well, I..." Kurt muttered as Noah scuffed his boots against the marble floor, his warm hazel eyes full to the brim with hope as he lifted his gaze to Kurt's. This was a man Kurt had despised for many years for his promiscuous private life, extravagant and frivolous lifestyle and irresponsible actions that he'd done purely out of pleasure. Yet, look what he had been rewarded him with. Nothing. Now Kurt held the key to something new, something better, perhaps, and it would only take one word to shatter the hope in Noah's eyes, but it would take another to make it blossom. "Sure, here you go."

"Thanks, Kurt," Noah replied, jumping internally with joy as he enthusiastically exchanged Kurt's phone for his, punching in each other's numbers and names into their contacts before handing them back. It usually wasn't a big deal giving someone you knew your number. It was a simple task, but clearly that wasn't the case for Noah as he flashed Kurt a grin so wide it caused the brunet to erupt into a bout melodious giggles. "I'll be sure to call you sometime. Maybe we could_"

"Kurt, we really should be going, it's getting late, and I don't know how hard it is to find a cab around here at this hour," Carlson pointed out as Kurt jumped at his friend's words.

He'd forgotten about Carlson, with his attention having been stolen completely by Noah's adorable behavior. To be honest, he didn't know whether leaving by the front door was a wise idea considering he had told the security guard at the front that his friends were the hotel's newest batch of janitors who had misplaced their entry cards. Then again, they were leaving.

Gently waving back at Noah as he and Carlson left the building, the hotel doors closed behind them with a loud echo as the billionaire was left to stand in the foyer, alone.

However, Noah's happiness wasn't dimmed by Kurt's departure. Nothing could rid him of his smile as he headed back to the elevator and up to the Padova Pad. He'd made a new acquaintance, someone he could see becoming friends with some day, despite the vast difference in image and personality. Kurt was unlike anyone he had ever met. It's not as if he had analyzed him in any way or even attempted to but by saying the few words he had said, he'd unwittingly understood the man before him – and all in the space of five minutes.

Not only was Kurt criminally pretty for a boy but he'd sat and listened to him, asked him whether he was actually happy, a question Noah had silently begged would be asked of him ever since his father's death. If Carlson, Kurt's friend, hadn't sprung up, he would have been able to reward Kurt's efforts with a true and honest answer of 'no'; no, he wasn't happy, but that now would have been a lie. Things had changed now. Noah was starting to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time; hope. Hope for happiness that everyone in the world, even he prayed for.

Many people would label him as ungrateful, taking everything he had for granted considering how much better off he was than millions around the world. His future had been secured even before he was born and he was thankful to his parents for blessing him with a good life, but sometimes he felt as though people forgot or even ignored the traumatizing repercussions from the death of a parent. His father's awful death, having both devastated and scarred him psychologically for life at the tender age of nine, had done incomparable damage. Had Kurt suffered as greatly as he had after the death of his mother? Possibly, but he didn't see Kurt living his life recklessly because of it, unlike him.

Noah's world was too materialistic, too plastic. It was up to him to bring the spontaneity in his life since everything in it had been practically planned for him. There was no excitement, no enjoyment, and even if there was, it hadn't lasted long. There had been no one to really share it with, no one he hadn't met at some fancy gathering of pompous rich kids and their stuck-up parents. He longed for people with personality, people who didn't always have to have an agenda, people who didn't plaster on fake smiles in front of each other only to stab them in the back later.

However, Kurt represented the light at the end of a tunnel he'd been bricked up in for so long, a sweet creature of innocence, purity and naïveté acting as a torch for him in the dark who didn't know left from right in this city, like a defenceless child. All Noah wanted to do was save him, take him away from a world of flashing cameras and cocktails, celebrities and everything he had longed to escape from.

Nevertheless, he'd noticed something in Kurt's brilliant blue eyes, eyes that had seen, experienced and wept over their fair share of sadness, anger and fear. Was Noah not the only one trying to escape from something? Were they both lost young souls possibly in search of happiness?

 _I've made a new acquaintance,_ thought Noah as his hopeful reflection in the lift's mirror smiled back at him. _I've met Kurt Hummel, and I'm not going to let him go._


	8. Central Park

Bang! Kurt lifted himself from the floor on shaky arms and nursed his throbbing head, his face contorting into a pained wince. He'd promised himself to master morning elegance by now, just for the sake of his body, but it seemed as though his sense of spatial awareness was as good as gone at such an early hour. Lifting his pajama top, Kurt checked his body for any tell-tale bruises. Thankfully, none had formed.

Since the high school locker shoves and dumpster dives of days gone by, Kurt's skin had become increasingly resilient to even the hardest of hits. It would take quite a knocking to discolor his hide to the shade of Byzantium purple and Kurt really owed it all to daily lathering sessions of Arnica gels, ice baths infused with aloe vera and olive oil and green tea ointments that had not only toughened his skin from attack but had also rendered it incredibly soft to the touch. It had been an unexpected surprise that had gone down well and, as a result, Kurt had prided himself on discovering his very first beauty secret.

Now, however, as he began to make his bed, open the windows and shuffle around his bedroom as if he wasn't seeing stars every which way, his thoughts back traveled to his past two weeks. What a past two weeks. Ever since positive reviews had been released the day after The Salvatore Spectacle and ever since its airing on CBS a week later, which had catapulted the show higher into the media spotlight, coverage on Inna, the designers, their outfits featured and the models who had worn them had also significantly increased, but no one had been more talked about or pursued more than the boy with the face 'a million women would die for', Kurt Hummel. For two weeks straight since his runway debut, Kurt had been hounded non-stop by journalists and photographers from every which way, begging him to come to their fashion magazine or online gossip site for an interview.

Questions like 'what is it like to be the talk of the town?', 'what does it feel like to shoot to fame after only one show', 'what does it feel like? What does it feel like?!" Kurt didn't know what it felt like, other than the attention he was getting was hugely overwhelming. He hadn't had time to settle down, fully decompress and think through the surreal events of his past few days. He hadn't been allowed to stop. He'd been fully booked for seven photo shoots and three runway shows, each lasting the whole day or afternoon with some on location and the rest in studios. He'd been constantly on the move with fittings, modeling agency meetings and aiding one of France's most celebrated designers, Jean Paul Gaultier, by being his muse. Becoming a fashion inspiration to such a man for his upcoming collection was an honor, but he'd suffocate if he couldn't breathe soon.

He wasn't used to all this. His mind and body could adapt quickly to new surroundings but his environment was changing too rapidly to keep up. He felt like an endangered animal on the verge of extinction, struggling to survive in the world of the publicity treadmill. Taking a walk in the park, going grocery shopping at the local store or even opening his window for fresh air were all recorded somehow or another. As a result, he didn't feel safe on his own. He'd fear every time he'd leave his apartment that a paparazzo would pull a Ron Galella, shout his name out from the shrubbery or out of a moving vehicle whilst all the while taking frame after frame of photos depicting a boy who wanted nothing more than to 'smash their camera!' Now Kurt understood what Noah Puckerman had meant when he'd said his life had been claimed. The camera was one of the greatest thieves of all.

However, having said that, despite experiencing many a time a camera turning against him, Kurt loved modeling. When done in the safety of a studio with personable photographers, ambient background music played to soothe the soul and _champagne doux_ that seemed to flow like fountains, he would give himself freely to the lens. He would do justice to the clothes, make the designers proud and make the hearts flutter for every reader around the world. He had never felt more free and desired in his life and as long as the industry would have him, he would stay. Though now, even with the 'faces' and poses, strutting and smiles, Kurt needed a well-deserved break. He had nothing left to give and he was sure that after a week of non-stop planking on his favorite plush comforter, he would be alive and fresh for another round of being camera food.

Stripping off his pajamas and throwing them in one clean shot into his laundry basket, Kurt entered his bathroom. It was a mess. The drawers in his counter were overflowing with skincare products, body grooming accessories littered the surfaces and piles upon piles of movement books had been stacked alongside the mirror. It took more effort than it should have to gather his shampoo, conditioner and body wash without setting off an avalanche, but he apparently needed it all. Makeup artists had claimed that he'd make their lives a lot easier if the 'canvas they painted on' was 'plain', not 'stained', that hair be 'malleable like putty' not 'dry and brittle' and the body had to have a certain amount of 'flexibility' to allow 'full range of pose'. It made sense but it was exhausting, exhausting enough to almost not answer his iPhone as it rang like a siren.

"Hello, Mr. Puckerm... I mean, Noah," Kurt answered, surprised as he attempted to calm his breathing. He'd dashed on over to his phone by his bedside table as it had rung, dropping his toiletries to the floor with a clatter as he did and managed to answer it before it went dead. He had at first thought it to be his father calling for another update since last week's hectic schedule, but as soon as he had seen the name Puckerman appear on his screen as broad as daylight, he had frowned. Now here was a surprise. "This is Noah, right?"

"Yeah it is, it's me, Kurt," Noah chuckled and Kurt blinked at the sound of that seductive voice. He hadn't spoken to Noah since the Spectacle's after party at the Padova Pad but he'd thought that, despite exchanging numbers and saying they would 'meet up' or at least engage each other in another weird-ass conversation, they wouldn't. He hadn't expected Noah to have remembered him at all. He hadn't expected anything to come to fruition. After all, he was just another run-of-the-mill model. The sort of people one see didn't truly see, only laid eyes on. "How are you doing? It feels like I haven't spoken to you in some time."

"I know. I've just fallen out of bed, literally, but apart from that, I'm well," smiled Kurt, as he climbed to sit on his bed, the sheets now mildly cool as the morning breeze went to work on filling his room with a delicious autumn-like odor. However, as he sat cross-legged on his bed, he now wondered how busy Noah Puckerman's life really was. His life alternated between gruelling studies at Harvard and social events in New York, his family and his friends, not to mention his fiancée, Quinn. His days must have been jam-packed from Monday to Sunday and to think he'd had time to fit Kurt in. How thoughtful. "How are you? I've got my last photo shoot this afternoon before I go_"

"Damn," Noah muttered and Kurt broke off mid-sentence. If the man hadn't interrupted, Kurt would have gone on to say that today was to be his last shoot before taking a two-week break from modeling. It was something he'd organized with his agency and even though one didn't ask for time off work except when pregnant or ill, since it was the company itself that issued the dates of leave, Elite had relented, knowing that they were very close to swamping their little star. "Sorry Kurt, it's just that... well... I rang to ask you if you wanted to hang out today; you know, go out of coffee... or something."

"Oh... okay, um... well, the shoot won't last all day, Noah. Just a couple hours," replied Kurt apologetically, his high of once again speaking to Noah now fading as he became the bearer of bad news. It was frustrating because it had been going so well. Noah's voice had been smooth, light-hearted and happy, a pleasant change from two weeks prior, but now with Kurt unavailable for the majority of the day, it now sounded as if it were drenched in disappointment, its tone too close for comfort to the one used at the Padova. "It's not far, actually; it's on location in Central Park so... if I ring you once it's over then maybe we could_"

"No, it's alright, Kurt. You're busy today and I've got a paper due in soon so... yeah..." Noah sighed and Kurt couldn't help but feel as if he'd cancelled on an event the man had been looking forward to. As if he, Kurt, had been planned as the chosen company, the sole person to talk to and drink coffee with while getting to know one another, a type of conversation Noah craved to have. However, that meant that the man must have thought of him. Kurt must have been on his mind as he had tapped his pencil against his text book at Harvard, foot hitting his desk leg as he stared into space. _Okay now, Kurt, you're really daydreaming._ "Next time, I'll be sure to call you the day before. I feel stupid for not doing it. Good luck at your shoot. You'll do great."

"Bye... Noah," replied Kurt barely in time before the line went dead. Silence.

Looking down and inspecting his pale, naked body, Kurt heaved a sigh at the drama that had already unfurled before nine. However, it wasn't the fact that it wouldn't harm him to tone up his thighs to a satisfactory level that disappointed him, the gym wasn't his scene, but that Noah hadn't bothered to pursue the chance to see him, even when Kurt had offered to ring him once his shoot was over. The man had given up so easily, like it was too much hassle, too much trouble. Then again, Kurt had to take Noah's life into account. He'd heard that college papers were laboriously long tasks to accomplish well if not given the time, though Kurt knew as well as Noah, that no 'paper' existed behind that excuse.

Shaking his head and ridding himself of thoughts of having ruined another person's day, Kurt jumped off the bed, placed his iPhone on the table where he'd found it and walked briskly past the window, naked, into the bathroom. He loved the thrill that he'd done it and he couldn't help but burst into laughter as he went to turn the shower on, the cold water gradually heating up as he went to stand in front of his mirror. Like Noah, Kurt hadn't seen Carlson, Carmen or Lola since the Padova and as his thoughts turned to them, he prayed they weren't having too tough a time at the theater. The only good news he'd heard was that apparently Gordon, the dreaded director was set to transfer to a theater in Queens and as soon as the rumors had been confirmed by good old Maggie, the receptionist, all three of them had planned on a shopping spree followed by a late night movie marathon to celebrate.

It was going to be a great start to his break, to be able to properly catch up with his friends and let them in on the talks he'd had with Jean Paul Gaultier to be the face for his upcoming fragrance, but now that he came to think about it, maybe they already knew about it. Had they read about it in online or in papers? Okay, now he could definitely empathize with Noah, and speaking of Noah, Carlson had been there when he and the man had exchanged numbers, he'd heard the way Noah had claimed to want to see him again and he'd seen it all. Had he then returned to Carmen and Lola the next day and spilled the juicy details straight into their gossip-hungry mouths? _They'd have strangled him if he hadn't,_ thought Kurt, smiling slightly as the shower's steam clouded and engulfed the entire room, Kurt's reflection vanishing.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"Kurt? Kurt, can you hear me? You're spacing out," said a voice behind Kurt and as he blindly wiped the condensation from his mirror before opening his eyes, he found himself sitting at a vanity in the shoot's hair and makeup marquee in front of his favorite makeup artist, Charlotta or 'Bunny', standing with her hands on his shoulders and a frown on her face.

Kurt knew better than to slouch in his chair as he was being groomed to perfection but he was drowsy with the combination of a hot shower and a carefree stroll from his apartment to the park in sunny weather no less. It's amazing he hadn't slumped forward and hit his head on the desk before falling asleep right there. "Oh, there, you've come back. Late night or did more paps try to chase you down as you came here," Bunny asked curiously.

"Actually, there were only two or three of them this time, and they weren't even putting in all that much effort to take a good picture. I think they're getting tired of me," smiled Kurt as he repositioned himself in his chair, the silk dressing robe he was wearing caressing his skin to such an extent that it was hard not to slouch yet again. He was glad the media frenzy that had followed him endlessly for fourteen days straight had deteriorated to a select group of photographers with the horrors of an over-publicized life now fading rapidly. He blessed the notoriously short human attention span. "Though, no late night, no. I got the 'beauty sleep' you're always telling me to get, and I cleansed, toned and moisturized your 'canvas' before 'painting'."

"You are good, Kurt. Though you did remember to use the Laura Mercier range we recommended you, not the cheaper stuff, right?" Charlotta lathered on a dollop of primer into her hands, warmed it up and spread it all over Kurt's face as he nodded.

Now that he was modeling with his face featured everywhere in the fashion world, Kurt's skin was in the spotlight and had to be treated like gold, but such treatment couldn't be obtained from drugstores. He now had to use multivitamin serums, essences and masks formulated by designers. It was a bit much.

"Well, I'm proud of you, Kurt. You're making my life easier and your skin has never looked better," Charlotta continued. "You could set an example to the others. Dark under eye circles, dull skin, I mean, they look like they've been caught in a drain."

"Oh, Bunny, they can't be that bad, can they? I mean surely they..." Kurt trailed off as he noticed the knowing look Charlotta was throwing him in the mirror, the words dying on his tongue as he closed his mouth. This was the kind of care models had the editors in the Photoshop unit going over time with and consequently allowing little girls to aspire to something they thought was the ideal form when it was nothing but an ugly illusion. Many adverts that had contained an inordinate amount of airbrushing in the past had been taken down by protestors and all because some of the models couldn't even get a good night's sleep. "Well it's their own fault. They smoke and drink too much. They know how bad it is for the skin but yet they still do it, even when they say they don't, and all from all these parties they go to.

"Puckerman's parties..." corrected Charlotta, as she finished dabbing on concealer around Kurt's nose before layering on a weightless coat of foundation, the liquid blending effortlessly on him like a second skin. He had always enjoyed Charlotta's gentle touch and skill. The Italian-American girl was only three years older than him, fresh out of beauty college and had a classically pretty face, long strawberry blonde hair and a masseuse's soothing voice. It was rare for him not to relax around her but at her words, he froze. "That's right. I heard that Playboy Puckerman held yet another one of his parties at some club downtown and invited some of our girls to come. You can guess as well as I can what they did there, made clearer by the fact that he was apparently caught going home with two of them."

"What?! He's engaged! He's not even married and he's cheating on his fiancée already?!" Kurt whipped around to face her, Charlotta nearly poking his eye out as she pulled her fingers quickly away.

Kurt couldn't believe that Noah was engaging in pre-adulterous behavior. He was getting married soon. How was his marriage to Quinn going to last if it was riddled with secret affairs and late night rendezvous at hotels? What would Quinn think of him taking up a mistress, if such a thing was allowed in modern-day marriage? _Though, would Quinn even... care?_

He finally settled back and said, "Anyway, I went down for the fittings for today and you should see what I get to wear. The clothes are cute and fun, but I'm telling you, they look like they've come straight out of a Japanese Manga show or something."

"Well, they would save the best for you, wouldn't they, you little treasure," cooed Charlotta as within the space of several minutes she had styled his hair, painted his lips a glossy French rose color and finished it all with a final dusting of powder. Kurt looked great, youthful and fresh, but his mind couldn't help but stray back to his old opinion of Noah Puckerman. He now began to question the truthfulness behind the words at the Padova, whether it had been an act, seeking pity from someone naïve enough to listen and taking advantage. Sly dog.

Charlotta brought him out of his reverie now. "Remember, just because you have a rockin' wardrobe for today, doesn't mean you can overexert yourself by pretending to be a Pokémon hunter wanting to 'catch em' all', alright? I don't want to come out of this marquee to find you stuck in a tree."

"Please, I'm too nimble to get stuck in a tree. Bunny, I bet you I could enter the costume marquee, get changed and sneak out without anyone noticing," Kurt challenged as he jumped out of his seat, his robe billowing behind him as he rushed to the marquee's entrance. He no longer wanted to think of Noah Puckerman, he no longer wanted to think of the man who had used him just to whine to. All he wanted was to end this photo shoot and this very day on a high note and as Charlotta laughed at his overexcited antics, his mock serious face imitating a comic superhero, he just knew it would. "Just you wait and see..."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Two hours later and Kurt had joined his fellow models on a large artificial rock that had been spray painted in barber like stripes to what he assumed imitated a miniature candy mountain from a children's storybook. The tip of the rock had been coated in fake snow that dispersed gradually down the mountain and towards the bottom were over-sized candy canes and lollipops, the grass littered in sweets and other fake confections. The set was very noticeable, literal eye candy; it had been positioned near the reservoir for the water feature background and could easily be seen no matter where one was in the park. The sun had come out to play and as Kurt splayed himself out on the rock, his legs together and his arms bent at odd angles as if he were a robot or a freshly opened toy, it blazed down on the shoot, coating everyone in a devilishly hot heat.

The theme was 'Youthful 2.0' and had been commissioned by I-D magazine for their second issue dedicated to the youth of fashion. Every one of them had been instructed to pose like action figures and figurines, faces either devoid of emotion or pulled into eerily creepy smiles that put off many of the onlookers as they observed from nearby, but it was just as well. Behind the Ken and Barbie-looking expressions that seemed to shout 'come play with me! You can brush my hair and take me everywhere!', every model was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. They'd lost the feeling in their feet and asses, with most of their bodies having gone numb from lack of movement and awkward stances, and as the sun's heat never once let up in its intensity, faces began to run and makeup began to melt. The artists were not happy.

"Keep it up, people, come on! You're the toy everyone wants, the martyrs of distraction, not day old bread!"

Sølve Sundsbø, the Norwegian fashion photographer yelled at the models as he took picture after picture of them all, not caring for one second that hair was beginning to stick to foreheads and clothes were starting to stain from sweat. It was truly disgusting; in fact, the whole time Kurt was up on that rock, a male model flexing beside him and another who was smiling so forcefully that her cheekbones were going to pop out any second, he was praying for an eclipse of some sort, rain or even a chance to just dive off this hard-ass rock and into the lake nearby. Anything at all.

"That's good, that's... damn...the lighting's gone."

"It's the clouds, look. They're too many of them, they're blocking out the sunlight," muttered Sølve's assistant as they warily observed the clouds above which, praise the lord, had appeared and wafted directly into the path of the sun, alleviating the sizzling heat and basking the park in much-needed shade. It was about time. Charlotta had been nearby with the other makeup artists observing her little ' _tesoro_ ' as he baked on the rock like a grilled chicken. She had feared for his pale skin which was more sensitive than most and thanked the heavens that she had caked it in sunscreen prior to shooting. Kurt was such good boy. "There are quite a lot of them, and they won't be gone for another hour and by then the light will have changed. What do you want to do?"

"We'll have to stop, won't we, but next time we're going to have to pay more attention to the weather forecast. See, this is why I don't like shooting outside," Sølve replied as he looked back up to the clouds, their never budging positions sealing the problem. Now however, as Kurt lay back on the rock in exhaustion, one of the other male models beside him chuckling at the exaggerated way that he had done it, he sighed happily. He loved New York. Whatever he needed help with, the city would come to his aid, whether it was in the form of friends for support or roaming clouds to prevent being set aflame. "All right, kids, we're going to have to stop it here today. I'm sorry, but we can't continue with the weather like this so you're free to go, and be careful coming down from there!"

"Kurt! Hey Kurt, over here!" shouted a voice to his left and as Kurt lifted his head to see none other than Lola jumping up and down and waving to him like a mad woman a couple of meters away by the entrance to The Loeb Boathouse Café, he gasped in surprise.

She looked beautiful. Her platinum shaded hair was loose and free to encircle her face and shoulders with whisks of blonde and as attire, she wore a hot pink summer dress with matching heels. She looked more like a Baby Doll than ever. Jumping down from his rocky perch and trotting on over to her, Kurt beamed as she greeted him with a hug, her eyes traveling over his comic-toy attire.

"Well, look at you, Doll Face. Didn't know they were dressing you up as Captain Candy. I'll have to forgo the coffee cake they have here for you."

"You're going to eat at the express café? Oh, can I join you? I'm starving. It's like the sun's particles not only sucked me dry of moisture but of food, too... that totally made sense," remarked Kurt sarcastically as he and Lola began strolling over to the café, his lollipop prop at times catching the attention of several toddlers and children as they stared at it enviously, their mouths drooling and their eyes hungry. It felt like being on a safari where the kids were the carnivorous animals and he was the antelope, or of course the candy-stuffed piñata. "Wait a minute, how come you're here and not at the theater? Where are Carlson and Carmen?"

"Gordon now knows that everyone knows he's leaving. So I guess it wouldn't be him if didn't break our backs for the final time, like his own twisted version of a parting gift. The asshole," replied Lola as they stopped at the café's entrance, the clinking of glass, conversation and the laughter of infants coming from deep inside. The building itself was meant as a haven for romantics and nature lovers, an understated icon that offered a rare tranquility within the ever-eclectic energy that defined Manhattan. "I only escaped here for lunch because I offered to take out the trash in the dressing room and since I was already outside, I'd be damned if I were to return before break ended. God, I swear if that man is not a live advert for male periods then I don't know who is."

"You mean to tell me that you left our friends to fend for themselves while you came here to see me? Nice," smiled Kurt as Lola as giggled, their eyes drawn to the sight of rowboats drifting about on the adjacent lake. However, it was just when he overheard another comment on his lollipop prop from a passing child that he realized that he hadn't changed from his outfit into own clothes. That was bad. He couldn't go flitting off with an outfit consisting of a brightly printed tee shirt with 'BANG' on the front, rose-colored shorts and Celeste blue converses. People would think he'd just been plucked right out of a kiddie play pen. "Anyway, I can't go eating in this. I'm going to have to go back and change. Can you stay and save us a table? I think I hear my tummy rumbling."

"That's odd. I thought you models were just cybernetic humans. I thought your skin was plastic, your blood, oil, and the sole thing you ran on was starvation at the best restaurants," replied Lola as she tapped her finger against her chin in mock thought.

Kurt could only roll his eyes he observed her scrupulously. She was clearly trying to bring back the debate about models they had had when they'd all been at the Padova but at the same time, make fun of the fact that he'd been so anxious about the stereotypical generalizations attributed to them. Admittedly he had lost his head a little, but all his life he'd faced nothing but prejudice, with stereotyping as the seed that sprouted it all. "Anorexia and bulimia, of course, served as the side dish," she grinned at him.

"I don't run on starvation but don't doubt me, I will eat you, Blondie McCupcake, before you eat me," retorted Kurt as he stuck his chin in the air, swiveling on his heels and walking briskly away and back towards the shoot's set, which was in the middle of being dismantled.

However that didn't stop Lola from trotting alongside him, her little spurts of jogging to keep up with his strides rendering her even more adorable. He couldn't hold a grudge against this girl. What she had said was all light, not meant maliciously, just harmless shoulder-shoving between friends. Though that didn't mean Kurt couldn't play back. He was the 'toy' here after all. "I've got a high metabolic rate which prevents me from gaining weight easily no matter how much or _what_ I stuff my pretty little face with, so you can... Lola? Lola, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Oh, my God, look Kurt! Your boyfriend's here," squealed Lola as she pointed animatedly to the other side of the park where, strolling in all his good-looking glory, was Noah Puckerman, major business tycoon, major dreamboat and majorly out of Kurt's league.

Dressed in black shades, an electric blue V-neck tee with a small silver chain hanging effortlessly from his strong neck along with black jeans and matching boots, the billionaire made his way over to the models by the marquees, a rather tall handsome man and a beautiful Latina following swiftly behind him. "Oh, come on," Lola pouted now, "you've got to say hello. You really hit it off at that Padova party didn't you? You gave each other your numbers."

"First of all, he is _not_ my boyfriend. Second of all I wouldn't say we 'hit it off' and thirdly, whatever Carlson has told you is a lie. Don't believe him," replied Kurt sternly as he internally cursed Carlson for having mindlessly blabbed something which hadn't been his to blab. He just knew he would. Carmen and Lola when joined as a force could break anyone, no matter how much 'defiance' they claimed to have. Come to think of it, though, he hadn't given him specific instructions not to speak of Noah. It would have raised unnecessary suspicion if he had. _Damn you, Carlson Palmers!_ "Look, Noah's only here because this is model central at the moment. To him the park is the bread and we're the delicious strawberry marshmallow fluff topping... well, not the men but the women, you know what I mean."

"Well, if you're going back to change I might as well come with you. Gives me the chance to introduce myself as the sexy, free and single Ms. Lola Jacobs," began Lola as she preened in front of an imaginary mirror, plumping her breasts and teasingly lifting her skirt just a little to expose more thigh.

She was making a fool of herself. Even if Puckerman were interested, Lola would just be another name on his 'to do' list, another notch on his bedpost that by now must have been whittled down to a toothpick.

Lola smirked at Kurt now. "Stop looking at me like that, Kurt. I know he's off limits and I know how he is with women, blah, blah, blah, but since Quinn isn't here and you're obviously not going to do anything, I'm going to get some hunk of man to lay his eyes on me, like so_"

"As much as I would love to see you get shot down by your dream man where the idea of you attending one of his family functions of top hats, monocles and cigars has clouded your lust-blown mind, I don't think that's a good idea," replied Kurt in a tone severe enough to merit a listening Lola.

He didn't know who Noah Puckerman was. Even after a private, hushed conversation in an empty lounge in the moonlight, he still didn't know who he was. It was as if every time Kurt heard the man's name, a body would appear but the face would blur, unrecognizable to an identity shrouded in rumors, fabrication and lies. "Look, Lola, do yourself a favor and stay away from him. You may ask me what he's like in person or even ask me what his character is like but, to tell you the truth, I don't know. I think it would be best if we stayed well clear of him."

"Kurt, listen to yourself; you're turning into the very prejudice you say hounded you at school," retorted Lola as she turned to face him, taking his hands in hers with an equally serious expression on her face, all hints of playfulness long gone.

Kurt blinked. The offensive yet completely deserved comment had struck him so close to home that he couldn't help but look down in shame. He'd had it coming. He'd allowed the force he'd sworn himself never to become to overtake both sides of his mind.

He sighed as Lola continued softly. "You're jumping to conclusions and it's very judgmental. One mistake and you write people off; you can't do that. All I know is that it wasn't Noah who judged others by themselves that night, it wasn't Noah who refused to shake someone's hand and it wasn't Noah who was disrespectful… it was you."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

A fountain of giggles erupted as Noah found himself fully encircled by beautiful models, their sweet smiling faces hiding the ferocious animals within, who wanted nothing more than to quit the pointless pleasantries and idle chat and pounce on him, to take a ride on the Puckerman wagon, one by one.

Though it looked as though he wasn't the only one who was doing well with the ladies. His best friend, Finn Hudson, had attracted the attention of two brunette beauties, their hands having slithered up his arm as they giggled in apparent embarrassment at their own touchy-feely behavior whilst his ex-girlfriend, Santana Lopez, was getting awfully close to a blonde bimbo-like model, whose top had been cropped so short it barely covered her nude breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination, just what Santana liked.

The naughty thing that was overlooked, and should have been addressed, was that all three of them had girlfriends. They were all in committed relationships with Noah engaged to Quinn Fabray, but this little complication didn't seem to deter them from flirting with beauty. It was right in front of them and they weren't in any hurry to appear ungrateful by leaving. It was something worth waking up early for and Noah had indeed arisen early that day, but not for said reasons. He'd returned from Harvard yesterday to attend a meeting this morning at the Puckerman Tower in the financial district, to hear a talk covering everything from the company's latest revenue and operating income to its total assets and equity. It was hardly a welcoming committee. In fact, it felt like he'd never left college. The subject of conversation was the same, only with balding old men in suits for company.

These meetings were something he was used to and had to learn to put up with. He'd been asked to attend these scheduled conferences every six months so that he could be fully updated on the conglomerate's status. Although why he had to learn that not only was a certain head of division at their Miami headquarters fired for using their company income for personal use to his family topping the Forbes 400 list of richest families in America for the nth time running, he didn't know. After all, he wasn't running the company. He wouldn't be taking up his father's place for at least another three years yet his mother was adamant on the fact that she wanted her son to be aware and prepared for the future and its prospects. She didn't want to run the risk of someone sitting in her husband's chair without a clue about what the hell they were doing, and would have them no sooner booted from the building, even if it turned out to be her own son.

Numbers, figures, statistics, graphs, charts, diagrams, data – that's all he ever heard down at the offices. Every time he'd open that conference room door, he'd experience throwbacks to high school calculus classes with not a single good thing deriving from it, apart from remembering the countless times he'd slept with girls on top of the table-top math charts just to anger the professor. Ah, good times.

However, reliving past indiscretions at school had not been the method of distraction this morning. His mind had instead wandered into a different territory, greener pastures he could say, where the setting of a school had been replaced with a luxury hotel his family owned and the girl standing in front of him had morphed into a model, a boy, Kurt Hummel. Yes, little Kurt Hummel, born in Columbus and raised in Lima, Ohio was sitting next to him on the moonlit couch by the window, those blue eyes like icons of the memory.

He didn't know what it was, but there was something about Kurt he couldn't lay his finger on. It was obvious to all that he was male, with his angelic looks a fine concoction of masculine and feminine, but when that spotlight had come on, as if the sunlight Inna had been singing about had risen onto Kurt for everyone to see, Noah's breath had caught in his throat. New faces were always pleasant surprises and their future careers as models would always be determined by the audience they were performing in front of, but as Kurt had all but floated his way down that runway, outshining Inna, outshining the very lights that illuminated him, a star had been born. He had re-rewritten the books. There was no other like him. He was a rare gem that seemed to have exploded onto the scene from some cow town in Ohio. Did dreams really come true?

Kurt had been spectacular, brimming over with all the graces and charms of the finest creature in the world, the Salvatore's true spectacle. In some ways it was almost as if he'd auditioned for the wrong show, been cast in the wrong company where he was more likely suited for a place in the Mariinsky Ballet in Russia or even on the Broadway stages of New York. It was like he'd mastered all tricks of the trade in the space of three minutes, and when Noah had heard rumors of mere novice status, there was no stopping him. No doubt about it, he'd had to meet this boy. It really was no surprise that all the lights at the Padova had shone for Kurt and as Noah had tediously worked his way up the line of models before reaching the 'real deal', he'd expected an enchanting personality to fill the enchanting vase-like figure, but no, Kurt Hummel was nothing like he'd expected.

He'd been truly taken aback by the boy's short attitude and his almost rude conduct as if he really didn't know what all the fuss was about Noah. Sure, Kurt had had a good look at him, had had time to trace his features with his sapphire eyes as Noah had stood there with speech long forgotten, but unlike every other model who had giggled and swooned to the point of near unconsciousness, Kurt had done the exact opposite. He'd turned the cards on Noah and this time it had been the billionaire with the knees of Jell-O, as if Noah had been standing before an icon. However at this rate, if his body was weakening before someone he'd not even met before, then this kid really was going to be here for the long run. No model had reduced him to such a state and as a result, he could safely predict great things from Kurt Hummel, a star status and a sex symbol in the making.

With a mumbled excuse of an engagement and a hasty apology, Kurt had fled the scene, catching Noah so off guard that he'd been left speechless, his hand still outstretched for a shake only to be left hanging pathetically out in front of him. Kurt hadn't wanted to meet him. He hadn't even wanted to be introduced. _Maybe he isn't gay,_ thought Noah to himself, as though sexual orientation played a key factor in all this. After all, he could see how a heterosexual male model wouldn't care less about him but, come off it, Kurt Hummel, straight? _The dude's too pretty to be straight, that can't be it._ Was it then all down to something as simple as a dislike of him, a fear of him? Noah didn't know, but he wasn't going to allow personal obstacles to stand in the way of becoming acquaintances with the model of the hour.

However, little had he known that by the time he'd return to his penthouse apartment, exhausted but with a smile that would last well into the night that he'd delve into his deepest, darkest and more trusted personal thoughts with that same boy. Intelligent, attentive and like he'd predicted, enchanting, Kurt Hummel's character had been revealed as he Noah had revealed himself away from the crowd, away from it all, both of them alone. The model's exterior was no mask, or if it was, it had been removed that night. It was as if his bare face could express what words could not say or touch. It evoked a feeling of serenity and peace to a confession-like situation that otherwise would have been a painful experience. As a result, had Kurt Hummel changed Noah's life as he knew it without realization and without intention? Was it even possible?

The following day he had packed his bags for Harvard and left New York, studying, writing a dissertation and throwing himself back into the world of education. This semester was admittedly difficult, what with the workload never ceasing to increase and the revision and assignments mounting, but it made him all the more glad that he'd decided to study part-time instead of full. After all, he had needed a life of his own as well as his college life. Remaining there until the train and car had brought him safely home, he'd just been in time to attend yesterday's birthday bash of a long term friend, Mike Chang, a dance student at The Julliard School. The party list had, indeed, invited many pretty faces through the doors with some of those faces standing before him now, but that hadn't stopped Noah from keeping an eye on the door in the vain chances of seeing a boy with porcelain skin coming in.

He'd been ridiculous. Kurt and Mike didn't know each other and they didn't have any mutual friends to connect them to one another, well, except himself, but even then he and Kurt weren't friends, were they? He wanted to be. He would love to have Kurt as more than an 'acquaintance'. Invite him around for parties, outings or even just coffee breaks, and with that last thought in mind, he'd been on the phone to Kurt within the next minute. A boy's high pitched yet soft-hearted voice had answered and he was reminded of such a voice from such an evening. Though as the news of a photo shoot had wafted itself on that same voice, disappointment had flooded Noah with a final decision to forget the whole thing with just a lame excuse of a paper that needed doing as a backup, as if a justification as weak as that wouldn't prevent Kurt from suspecting a lie. It was pathetic.

However, as his morning hours had trudged on with the ticking of the clock going no faster, he'd found himself wandering aimlessly around his apartment, picking up various objects from books to his high school football helmet with little interest. He had nothing to do, one of those rare occasions where he had nothing on, and a sense of uselessness soon evolved into growing agitation. He wanted to see Kurt. He _wanted_ to. He saw no problem considering the sun was out and the boy himself had mentioned his photo shoot's short hours of duration and so, within half an hour, he had got changed, made his way down to the park and brought his little entourage of friends along for the fun. Having arrived at the shoot and at the same time running the risk of being smothered in breasts, Noah could not see Kurt anywhere.

"Do any of you lovely ladies know where I can find Kurt Hummel? You know, the boy with pale skin and blue eyes," asked Noah suddenly as the hordes of models stopped one by one to frown at him curiously, each of them exchanging gazes with each other as if telepathically asking one another if it was possible to think of someone else when all a man needed was right in front of him. Obviously not, and as Noah continued look back at them expectantly for an answer, it was clear he had his mind focused on finding Kurt. "He said he was in this shoot today, but I don't see_"

"Kurt? Oh the phantom ghost child that looks like his skin hasn't seen the light of day? What would you possibly want with him? We're the ones you're after, no?" A model beside him, making sure to describe Kurt with as much distaste as possible, ran her fingers through the dark hairs on Noah's arm before letting it travel all the way up to squeeze his large bicep. Moaning in pleasure, the model was set to speak again but her throat gulped instead as she took in Noah's frigid glare, his cold eyes looking down at her hand on his arm with a 'take it off, or I'll break it off' expression on his face. "H-he was called over by some girl over by the boathouse when we finished, but I don't know if they're still there. It was like ten minutes ago."

"You mean that restaurant by the lake? Thanks," Noah nodded as he looked over towards The Loeb Boathouse Café, following the model's retreating finger as she pointed over by the lake. Now he was getting somewhere, but at the cost of someone rudely bad mouthing Kurt for no reason. He wouldn't put up with shallow and obnoxious people if they degraded others no matter how beautiful they were. Especially when it came to one of the sweetest people he had ever come across. There was no need for it, and he found his desire to find Kurt all the stronger but now, however, as he reached the café, all he was met with was the sight of happy families dining on coffee, juice and croissant and not a single sign of a certain brunet beauty anywhere.

"Excuse me, but are you Noah Puckerman by any chance?" asked a light voice behind him. Noah turned around to see a bonnie girl with the one of the lightest shades of blonde hair he had ever come across, a loose-flowing summer dress and matching heels. She had just got up from an outdoor table by the entrance, as if she were waiting for someone, and was eyeing him curiously, her question hot in her eyes. Yet, despite knowing he had never met her before, she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her at a party or some other event. _Oh God, please don't be an ex-one night stand chick._ "Hi, Lola Jacobs, it's nice to meet you, but I'm guessing you didn't come over here for a bite to eat."

"No, I'm actually looking for someone. He's a model, was in the shoot over there earlier this afternoon and I was directed over here," Noah explained, silently thanking that fate hadn't brought along a fling from the past, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd feared a confrontation from some hook up he hadn't called. It fact, it was common. Sometimes he'd fear they'd knock his door down or attempt to sue him for sexual battery, anything to expose the 'sex maniac' he apparently was but ever since his engagement, that fear had thankfully deteriorated. Though, so had his libido. "I would tell you who he is but I doubt you'd have seen him... you've seen him, haven't you?"

"Well, considering I'm the girl who called him over here, yes I've seen him," smiled Lola as Noah's stomach lurched at the news, causing him to shift from one foot to the other and peer into the café in anticipation of the answer, but to also distract the girl from his body's strange behavior. He knew by the look in her eye, somehow, that she knew where Kurt was, but that hadn't prepared him for the butterflies springing to life and flapping their delicate wings rapidly within him as she opened her mouth yet again. "But there's no point going in there, you won't find him. He's not here. Just retrace your steps and you'll find Kurt Hummel soon enough."

**.**

 

**Glee**

**.**

Winding his white headscarf around his head and heading out towards the marquee's exit, Kurt waved goodbye to the shoot's outfit director, Forde, whilst shouting out a thanks for not having had his head on the nearest execution block. He had been the last model to return their clothes after his little diversion with Lola but he'd attempted to pull the puppy eyes as defense. It was the only thing he had as a weapon, and a successful weapon at that when Forde had relented, but not before gently scolding him that if he'd returned sooner, then she would have already started packing everything up. Kurt had tried to get back to her as quickly as he could when he'd left Lola by the boathouse, but due to a certain Puckerman, he'd had to go the long way around. Weaving through trees, shrubbery and the moving obstacles that were other humans, Kurt had managed to reach the marquee, undetected, or so he hoped.

He had only his lithe body to thank for his stealth although he wasn't a teacher so he didn't have eyes in the back of his head. His body had been slightly crouched and low to the ground and he knew he'd received odd glances as well as a few giggles from passing children on his way over, but this was the sacrifice he had to make. Despite Lola's biting but truth-filled comment that had been enough to make him feel bad about himself, he just couldn't see Noah now. He had to have time to think, screw his head on and ponder whether this man was just his own reputation in physical form or someone else, but one thing was for sure, he was not going to lower himself to the level his Neanderthal peers had wallowed in. Their discriminatory behavior was enough for him to find Noah and apologize, but maybe another time.

"Kurt? Are you in here," asked a smooth voice from beyond the marquee. Kurt froze. The sun was still out and bright, though not as it had been twenty minutes ago, but it was enough to fully outline a moving silhouette right outside the thin white fabric of the marquee. Features that boasted broad shoulders, strong arms, a swagger, a shaved head. He knew very well who the man was and it took all of Kurt's resistance to not work his mind into overdrive as he attempted to telepathically self-combust a certain Miss Lola Jacobs who no doubt must have blabbed his location. Disappointing. "Is this even the right tent... Kurt?"

"Oh... hello, Mr. Puckerman," Forde greeted as she put down Kurt's outfit that she had just hung up on a rack nearby to look over and see New York's billionaire playboy strolling into her marquee, his head whipping from side to side and peering over and under racks, as if he were searching for someone. She was surprised to see him but not nearly as surprised as Kurt, who had run for cover in the nearest rack over by the marquee's entrance. He'd had to still the crackling plastic sleeves that protected the outfits since they made a lot of noise in all the commotion but as soon as he had, he'd quietened his erratic breathing, rendered his body as small as possible and waited with heart-thumping anticipation for the storm to pass. "What can I help you with? Are you... looking for someone?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for Kurt Hummel. They told me he was over by that boathouse café by the lake and now they're telling me he's in here. I can't find him anywhere. Do you know where... I..."

Noah trailed off as Forde peeked over his shoulder on her tiptoes to point with a roll of her eyes over to the marquee's entrance. There, as the man turned around, was the boy he had been spending the last ten minutes looking for, dressed in skinny jeans, pale Converses, a pastel polo top and with a big lollipop-like prop obscuring his head and face. It was one of the strangest things Noah had ever seen and, to be honest, without the view of a face it could have been anyone, but with the woman's indication topped with the freeze at the name he'd uttered, he knew who it was. "Kurt? Kurt, is that you?"

"No... no, I'm afraid I'm not this Kurt Hummel you speak of, I'm... someone else," replied Kurt in a low tone, a vain attempt if any to throw off the tanned man who was striding toward him, but he couldn't see properly. The lollipop was ever so slightly opaque and translucent but it didn't offer good enough vision to determine what was going on in front of him. In fact, his surroundings resembled nothing more than a pink-tinted blur than anything else, with the approaching figure of Noah Puckerman looming ominously towards him.

It was Kurt's own fault really. He knew he should have picked up a mask instead of this useless junk, but it had been right there lying on the table next to him, and the thought of making a clean getaway while Noah's back was turned seemed to offer him the chance. Obviously not. "I'm... I'm just a prop assistant who... assists with... props."

"Oh, really? Is that so? You've got a sweet-looking lollipop there. Mind if I lick it?"

Noah smirked, finding this little game of hide and seek very entertaining. However, whether Kurt was acting the fool or genuinely trying to escape from detection, he didn't know, but he was too relieved to have found him anyway. It would have been nice to see his face as well but every time he tried to catch a glimpse, the damn lollipop would get in the way. Though not for long.

As Kurt stumbled out from the marquee and continued to uncertainly pace backwards, a sudden dip in the ground had him losing his balance and falling to the grass, his lollipop landing a few meters away. The sight was worthy of a sketch on a comedy show but as the boy shifted his embarrassed gaze from his lollipop to the man in front of him, he was met with the amused eyes and the chuckling form of Noah Puckerman.


	9. Mangia

"Well, that was an original way of saying hello. Do you always greet people that way?" Noah chuckled as Kurt once again checked out his ruined jeans, the sight of a large dusty brown patch on his bottom staining otherwise comfortable cotton rich denim.

It was a shame, really. He'd only bought the pair yesterday and now after he had spent approximately five minutes vainly attempting to rub it off with water and tissues back at the marquee, he knew it was fruitless. He wasn't going to be able to properly see to it at home. Though through all the enforced rubbing, the stain had faded several tones to the point where it now resembled a light patch of desert sand, and all because of a lollypop.

"Or was that little show back there all for me?"

"Oh no, that's how I greet everyone. It's usually a masterpiece of a performance, but I guess I'm running out of ideas, so I'm resorting to humiliating myself in public. Fun times," replied Kurt sarcastically with a voice so dead pan that Noah's chuckles couldn't help but evolve into laughter, the model fighting back a smile as they walked.

After Kurt's little incident of hilarious proportions back at the shoot that had attracted a further set of muffled laughter from those nearby, he and Noah had unknowingly found themselves strolling through the park, their feet taking them along Terrance drive all the way to West Drive as they focused on each other.

"What are you doing here anyway? You said you had a paper to write... or does the temptation to come flirt with the ladies overpower that Harvard brain of yours?"

"When I'm in New York, anything is a temptation, Kurt. Whether its women or a sports game. I thought I could fight it, I couldn't, so I came down here to surprise you which... seems to have worked out better than I had expected," chuckled Noah once more as Kurt let out a light-hearted huff at the man's continued amusement. Surely the whole thing couldn't have been that funny. He'd simply tripped, though the lollypop mask and klutz-like fall must have been high factors in it all. Now, however, as Kurt watched Noah's chuckles subside, he began to wonder what the man's true intentions were of coming down to the shoot, apart from the 'women.' "You sure know now to make an entrance."

"You can laugh at me all you like. Take pleasure at my expense, but I'll be laughing _this_ ass off when the same thing happens to you," giggled Kurt as he brandished a pointed finger at Noah. They were now walking towards the edge of the park, the south end of the stretch near Times Square, but even though Kurt's hunger and thirst were nearing dangerous levels of severity and only now did he remember that he'd stood Lola up at the Express café, he didn't want to be anywhere else but here with Noah. Yes, he'd tried to avoid the man and yes, said man was making fun of him but it was just innocent teasing. Maybe Noah hadn't even given a second thought behind his little stunt. "You'll taste your own medicine, Noah, and it will be bitter."

"No, but seriously, Kurt. Were you... hiding from me back there?" Noah asked as all traces of earlier amusement disappeared in favor of an expression the combination of curiosity, fear and a snort of laughter, as if the question was a ridiculous thing to ask. It wasn't.

Kurt had underestimated Noah's now observant nature and had been hoping that he wouldn't think too much into it. Though, as the man scoured his face for a contradictory answer, Kurt's gaze averted as if too guilty to look him in the eye. Noah stopped walking and gently took hold of his arm, the boy coming to a halt beside him. He let go as Kurt looked down at his hand but pressed on with the matter as he took in the model's slightly crestfallen face. "Kurt, I'm sorry if I've made you mad by coming. I should have let you know, I just... wanted to see you."

"Oh, but I wasn't hiding from you, Noah, I was just... making it harder for you to see me, that was all," replied Kurt with a smile, the positive expression failing to convince either of them as it failed to reach his eyes. What he had just said was stupid. He'd word vomited it out without thinking and it didn't help his case. It was like saying lying was merely the act of creating fiction with one's mouth. Not helping, but he couldn't help it. He was panicking. As a result, he winced as Noah frowned at the odd reply, silent, as if waiting for the real response, and it came, as soon as Kurt's senses came flooding back. "I'm sorry; it's just that I wasn't expecting to see you. It was a surprise since after what you said this morning sounded so definite, coupled with the fact that_"

"You didn't... want to see me. No, it's okay Kurt, I get it... um... Geez, I've got to learn to let people in on stuff," muttered Noah, his face falling as his gaze fell to the ground.

Kurt didn't know what to do. Noah had pretty much said it, but had come to the conclusion of an attitude from ten minutes ago, an attitude that had been left back at the outfit marquee. It's not how he felt now. This dip in the conversation was spoiling their stroll and from the way Noah had lifted his eyes to his friends over by the lake before shifting to the entrance of the park he'd entered from, it looked like he was about leave, as if he didn't want to cause Kurt any more distress by staying. "Before I go, Kurt, can I ask... why? You sounded fine on the phone this morning, I mean you're the one who sugges_"

"I know, Noah, I know. I was fine, and I did want to see you but... I'm ashamed to admit that there was a time between now and then that I let myself believe a rumor about you," whispered Kurt as Noah whipped his eyes away from his feet where they had been to the boy before him.

No. This could not be happening. Rumors and bullshit stories had been, for a while now, Noah's chief enemy. Wielded by the media, they had the power to turn anyone against him, even the ones closest to him and to learn that Kurt had fallen prey to their latest exaggerated fabrication, it was enough to snap him.

"Noah, I'm in no position to judge you, and it is only until now that a friend made me open my eyes, but it was said that you had returned to your 'promiscuous, negligent and insolent lifestyle' despite your recent engagement to your fiancée, Quinn. I didn_"

"But you judged me anyway, didn't you, Kurt? You believed it even though it was just a rumor and then you judged me," snapped Noah as he rounded on Kurt, the boy stumbling back as the man fixed him with a betrayed glare.

The rumors may have circulated but in the end, it was Kurt who had chosen to listen to them. Everyone listened to them. Why should Kurt have been any different? Alright, so Noah had slept with his fair share of women, he'd gambled in the past and he'd dabbled in activities unbecoming of the heir of a conglomerate, all mistakes he'd learned from. He was only asking for redemption. "You know, with everything you said two weeks ago with that Marx quote, I'd thought you'd know better than to jump to conclusions, but I guess not. Bye, Kurt."

"No, Noah, come back! Don't go, I_"

"What, Kurt?! Guilty you believed it? Fine, so everything out there may not always be a lie, but know that everything gets blown out of fucking proportion!"

Noah attempted to storm off but instead it was Kurt's turn to grab hold of his arm and bring him to a stop. The boy had wasted no time in rounding him and standing before him, guilt painting his pretty face but Noah was not going to calm down. He wanted to disappear, here and now, just disappear, but the ocean eyes in front of him were like anchors, anchoring him to the earth, never letting him go.

"Just think next time when you hear something about me," Noah muttered, "how many layers of embellished bullshit have been layered on for shock value. Just think about it, Kurt, though I wouldn't want to ruin the juicy story for yo_"

"Noah, stop! Please, just stop!" Kurt slammed his hands onto Noah's strong chest before resting his head on it, the feeling of the man's deep breathing and the rushing of his heartbeat ever more obvious now. Slowly he raised his head. "Noah, listen to me, I'm sorry, and you're right, I should have known better. I've deceived you and what I've done has hurt you... but... don't forsake me because of it. I can't do it, I can't bear it, I can't be like my tormenters from high school. I want to get to know you from _you_ , not from others. I know we're merely acquaintances and I have no other greater status in your life than that, but I know an ocean more of truth about you than they do, and what you've said about yourself, I like, and if you'll let me... I can't wait to learn so much more... Noah? Please?"

Silence. Kurt had fought for himself as was beyond his pride, to convince Noah of his wrongful beliefs and his resulting regret but he had no idea what the man was making of it. His handsome features were stripped of emotion, neutral, eyes distant and face overall reluctant to even reward Kurt's pretty little speech with a reaction. Kurt had wounded him and a simple 'I'm sorry' wasn't the treatment needed to heal.

Sliding his hands off Noah's chest as if fearing his skin would burn from the searing contact, Kurt begged for forgiveness with another glance. Nothing. Only time would heal prejudice and sometimes not even that. Back in high school, forgiving those who had done him wrong for all they had put him through had been the last thing they deserved, but even though he'd done no wrong, he'd forgiven them regardless. He had wished to move on and escape to New York, not continue a wretched, bitter life that was unable to redeem.

"If you feel you don't want anything more to do with me then please say so and put me out of my miser_"

"You want to get some coffee? I know a great place near here that's pretty secluded," Noah asked as Kurt whipped his head up to see the hint of a grin etching its way across the man's face, the life reigniting in his hazel eyes as with each passing second, Noah's face broke out into a warm smile.

He almost broke into a chuckle as Kurt's face morphed into one of complete surprise, but it was just as well. He had spoken with such candor, such heartfelt veracity that with each honest word uttered Noah's stomach had flipped over and over again. It was as if the boy were an innocent, guileless child recovering from anguish, as if he provoked others while subtly manipulating them with the sole desire to be liked. Kurt Hummel had the power to destroy him, as well as himself. They just didn't know it yet. "Come on, I'll pay. I'll pay for whatever you and your dirty ass want."

Looking down at his stained jeans and flipping his head back in laughter, Kurt threw his arms around Noah and squeezed a hug from him, the man knowing very well what it translated into: Thank you for forgiving me.

In all truth, Noah had already forgiven him. He'd forgiven him the moment Kurt had placed his hands to his broad chest and moved his body into his, not wanting there to be any distance between them so that his apology could be that much more from the heart. It broke boundaries, personal space and appropriate public decorum. In other people's eyes, if Kurt had wanted to say something, he'd say it, not telegraph it for all to see; it was damnably vulgar, but Noah hadn't minded. It was the strangest thing.

Watching Kurt now, the rays of sunlight escaping through the trees and hitting him as he ran ahead through the park, he couldn't believe someone so small had fought so hard to stay in his life. No one had ever done that. No one.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"I didn't even puke," boasted Noah, leaning back on back his stool, a proud smirk on his face as Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. They had long left Central Park, made their way to the luxury café, Mangia, on West 57th Street where they were now sitting at a circular wooden table adjacent to the parted French doors overlooking the road. Before now, Kurt had never heard of Mangia. Apparently it had been a small sandwich shop in 1981 that had developed a reputation for quality and innovation, offering an alternative to elaborate restaurants and quick fix delis from the hands of their professionally-trained chefs and bakers. Now Kurt knew why it had gained in popularity. The food was indescribable.

"You mean to say you ate a sugar pepper on a dare... and survived?" Kurt stared at Noah disbelievingly, raising his eyebrows as the other man nodded his head proudly. The man's smugness and ever so slight hauteur was enough to persuade Kurt to challenge him but in the end, he backed off.

Kurt knew Noah had more tolerance for daredevil activities than he did and he didn't want to undergo embarrassment yet again by performing a sequel to the lollipop incident. The man already had enough on him as it was. Sipping his tea delicately before placing it back down on the table, Kurt observed Noah's pleased face, shaking his head as he smiled. "Could your head _be_ any bigger?"

"Hey, sugar pepper is tough shit. It is way up in the ranks of the Cinnamon challenge and, by the way, I did that too, and I didn't even gag," replied Noah indignantly as his expression turned into one of defense, his body leaning forward as he rested his hands on the table.

Though he needn't have been so protective of his past efforts; Kurt was genuinely impressed. The challenge was extremely difficult and carried substantial health risks because the cinnamon coated and dried the mouth and throat. It was a risky challenge but it just made him like Noah more. The man seemed grounded, resolute and able to withstand the drying attack of powdered spice.

Noah smirked at Kurt, though. "I'd like to see you try it, Kurt. I bet you couldn't do it."

"I wouldn't be able to convince myself let alone bet on it. My head would explode," shrugged Kurt as he offered Noah a small smile before turning his gaze to the bustling street life outside.

Even though the sight wasn't the greatest, what he was eating sure as hell made up for it. He'd ordered a grilled chicken salad with apples, walnuts, celery and currants, over baby spinach in balsamic vinaigrette… and all for $10.95. Reasonable. "Plus I don't think my agency would like it very much if I were to pose in my next shoot with half my skull and brain blown to bits. I think it would detract too much attention from the clothes and you know how egotistical the designers are. They could give the models a run for their money."

"Fair enough. So you now know some of my own personal bests, like when I won the only winning touchdown in football sophomore year in high school, no biggie," smirked Noah, placing his hand over his chest as that cocky grin once again made its appearance.

By this point in time, Kurt wasn't finding Noah's light-hearted bragging to be all that annoying. In fact, he didn't really mind it all that much. He suspected that the man hadn't been praised all that often when he was child, especially when it came to achieving personal goals and bests. Such neglectful treatment and lack of support could result in behavior that overcompensated for that. It was like this with girls. Parents should always boost their kids' confidence. "Think you can top that off, Kur_"

"Noah, doesn't it... I mean doesn't it... bother you having people recognize you in the street? Look, I can see some pointing at us and whispering, over there," Kurt said as he nodded in the direction of a few bystanders who had merely glanced their way before double taking and coming to a stop to look at them.

It wasn't something Kurt wanted to call Noah out on but he had to replace his original question with something else. Inquiring into someone's tumultuous childhood never ended well – or at least it hadn't with him. It would upset Noah and he'd definitely learned from his mistake in the park. "I don't know if you knew this but I had paps chasing me non-stop for the last two weeks and I couldn't bear it. You have to put up with it all the time. How?"

"You get used it. You learn to block them out, control your temper, control anything that make you lose it in front of them because if you don't, they'll have the pictures on the stands the next day and _you'll_ be the one who'll look insane," replied Noah casually as he sipped at his coffee, a hint of bitterness souring his voice.

Kurt looked down at his lap. It seemed as though he had brought the conversation down anyway, crowning him as the least smooth talker there ever was. Now that was something worth getting upset about, more than cameras following you every which way. "You're lucky, Kurt. You only had them a short while and the only pictures people are ever going to see of you will be you looking... beautiful."

"Beautiful? Noah, I think you may have misused a word just now," Kurt giggled as he plunged his fork into his chicken before cutting himself a piece and eating it, Noah watching him with an expression akin to an insulted frown as he chewed. The boy didn't get it.

Kurt thought about what Noah had just said. Just because his skin was fair, his lips were red and his body was slender and slimmer compared to the average man didn't mean he had to have words thrown at him that were conventionally used for women, no matter how complimentary they were, did it? Or was there no other word to describe him other than beautiful? He never thought of it till now.

Feeling Noah's inquisitive eyes of him, Kurt swallowed before continuing. "I'm sorry, Noah, you meant well. It's just that my face was no more than a shadow on the playground and to have it in the spotlight is... somewhat different."

"It is in the spotlight where it belongs, Kurt. A face like yours doesn't belong in the shadows," complimented Noah as Kurt slowed down his forkful of spinach to look over at the endearing expression on the man's face.

Noah's hazel eyes were not straying but rather fixed and focused on his, as if they, like his mouth knew exactly what they wanted to communicate. In normal circumstances it would have rendered Kurt a tad uncomfortable but now that he realized that he was possibly the first male to ever receive such a compliment from Noah 'Lady-Killer' Puckerman, he smirked in satisfaction.

"Okay, fine, Kurt, I'll say it: I think you're good looking. Happy now? But don't get used to it, so you can stop looking at me like that and we can talk about something else... um... like... oh yeah, personal bests. Got any noteworthy ones?"

"Well..." began Kurt as he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head up back into the air in thought. It was hard to think of one. Nothing he had in his mental inventory was ever going to be as impressive as Noah's own audacious collection. If anything, it was going to be a generic reminiscence, but one that held great value. "I guess you could say surviving successfully in New York on my own is a huge feat for a small-town boy like me, but I think my favorite personal best was when I was in elementary school. My mom and I built six snowmen in our garden. We decorated them with bits of clothing from our wardrobes and they all turned out pretty well. Granted, it's not completely my own best but it is good to share the success with someone else... don't you think?"

"And who are you sharing your current success with now, now that you're here in the city?" Noah was curious as he looked over at Kurt's pondering face as he nonchalantly poked at his Soppressata Panini. He'd brought Kurt here instead of the popular destinations like Caffe Néro, Costa, and Starbucks, because he knew he'd like it. How could he not? The service was hospitable, the atmosphere was great and the paninis they produced here were absolutely delicious. Yet no amount of smoked mozzarella, eggplant, arugula and balsamic glaze on house roll could distract him from a question he'd wanted to ask ever since they'd arrived. "Family, friends...boyfriend?"

"Friends, I'd say," replied Kurt, nodding in confirmation as Noah internally sighed in frustration. Kurt had so far shared quite a bit of his success with his friends considering he'd granted them unauthorized access to both the Salvatore Spectacle and the Padova Pad. God knew what else he was going to bundle them into next but, for the moment, now they knew which models got the pre-runway jitters and which ones were the real bitches. It had been a whole revelation of an affair. "Not family so much as my father back in Ohio. Though I do text him with monthly updates to keep him up with how I am and what has happened. He doesn't like being kept in the dark especially when his only son is living 530 miles away in a town where pepper spraying is very freque_"

"But... are you seeing anybody, Kurt?" Noah shuffled nearer to Kurt on his stool as he pressed the most important matter of his question along. He knew he was being rude. He shouldn't have been asking the boy such a question and it wasn't a suitable conversation what with them not knowing each other that well, but it was a topic he just couldn't avoid, no matter how uncouth and presumptuous it was.

Kurt blinked before turning to face him head on, eying him with a frown that seemed to deepen with every passing second, or as deep a frown as a consulting dermatologist of Elite Model Management as well as Kurt would allow.

Noah forged ahead. "I'm sorry, but... I mean... there's no one special at the moment, is there?"

"Well, considering I've just moved here three weeks ago, changed life directions and experienced a set of weeks as busy as Grand Central on a Monday, no there isn't, but thanks for the concern... You sound just like my dad," replied Kurt, his shoulders drooping slightly as he went back to his food, mindlessly poking a set of walnuts across from his celery.

His love life when compared to Noah's was next to nothing; in fact, it wasn't even love. He didn't even know what love was. What he had with Blaine was a relationship that had consisted of a mild hormone-based attraction, awkward intimate signs of affection and an ending that was by far the furthest away from happily ever after. "There was someone a few months back but that's a story for another time... Why are you smiling?"

"Oh, I'm sorry... uh... I'm just taken aback, Kurt... that's all," stuttered Noah as the pleased grin he had been sporting, vanished in a flash. The last thing he wanted was to have Kurt angry at him.

Against all proper etiquette, he had brought in this personal topic and now he was coming across as an asshole for judging someone's single relationship status. That hadn't been the aim. He couldn't control the smile that had appeared because, for the past minute, his heart had been racing in trepidation of an answer he seriously cared too much about. What was with him? "It's just that... you don't get many single models; well, not in New York anyway. Most of them are seeing someone even if it's not a... committed relationship."

"You mean a fuck buddy?" Kurt's blunt comment had Noah's eyes widening rapidly, his tanned cheeks unnaturally starting to sport a light tinge of pink. He hadn't been expecting Kurt to jump right to the point but Noah had been the persistent little bugger in all this. Despite the crude reference, the boy's eyes didn't seem to show a hint of embarrassment and Noah had to wonder how many times Kurt had had this conversation. With his father maybe? His friends, but in the end, it was the 'sex shark' with the blushing skin. "I don't really like the idea of having someone in your life who is there purely for sex, no strings attached and who you secretly pretend isn't human, it's just... it conjures up thoughts of prostitution, without the paying part that is."

"You mean you've never had a relationship that ended, but the sex was so good that you kept him on cal_"

"I'm a virgin, Noah," interrupted Kurt, again with the same bluntness as before that was hard to comprehend. Of course the boy was untouched. His wholesome, chaste look screamed virgin and his nearly all-white ensemble didn't help matters, but again it was the way Kurt had announced it as if it were simple fact, that really captivated Noah. Admitting to a potentially mortifying secret without discomfort or shame was something one didn't witness often and especially not over lunch with strangers eating a few meters away. "I've never lost it, never had it popped, it is very much intact and I don't know about you but I love the feeling of innocence within me... It keeps me feeling young – like a natural rejuvenation cream."

"Never heard that one before, it's cute..." Noah trailed off as Kurt dipped his finger into the Strawberry Shortcake dessert he had ordered alongside his salad and brought it to his lips. A tongue came out for a lick and the finger went into a mouthful plunge as within those sets of seconds, Kurt sucked his finger free of white cream.

Noah sat very still, his eyes never straying from the glossed pout as the boy giggled innocently. What was Kurt doing? Was he just simply eating cream or was he trying to do it in a way that sought to elicit a sexual response? After all, no one ate cream like that except during foreplay but Kurt didn't have an agenda, did he? In the end, whatever he had done had awoken something down below and Noah, petrified, looked away.

"Oh my God... that was inappropriate. I'm sorry, Noah, I have an idea of what that must have looked like," Kurt apologized but whether he meant it or not, he himself didn't know. He had just been pleased that Noah hadn't criticized his sexual life, or lack thereof. Except for that pleased smile. He didn't know what to make of that. This whole conversation hadn't been any of the man's business but in that moment following Kurt's blunt admission, he had wanted to prove to someone that even though he'd never been bedded, his sexual desires were still very much intact. Just because he was single didn't automatically rid him of allure, even if his belief in his own attraction to others was considerably lower than the norm, no matter 'beautiful' he was. "Well anyway, it's good to know you've not called me prudish, frigid and weird like others did. I think losing one's virgini_"

"I lost mine when I was twelve," blurted Noah and Kurt's mouth, still open from speech, ceased to close. There it hung open, descending ever lower to the point where even he began to take notice.

Kurt had never heard of such a thing, someone he assumed willingly losing something that was meant to be treasured at such a young age. His own attraction to boys hadn't formed until puberty but then Noah was different. He'd always looked older than his years, the 'man child' of the family when he'd been in his teens.

"Yeah, it was in junior high. A threesome with two high school girls and it was... alright. I mean it wasn't the best. We got into it but then they kept pushing me aside like they were more into each other than me. I actually remember going to play Super Mario while they finished."

"Well... at least you saw things. I mean what other man can boast an early life involvement in a threesome with two lesbians, right?" Kurt was attempting to lighten the mood, but something wasn't right. Noah wasn't even smiling.

As well as finding the story shocking, Kurt had found it vaguely amusing but it was the return of that specific memory that had Noah thinking. The large array of women he'd slept with since he was twelve now only highlighted how insignificant he was. Sure he had bragged about every hot lay but had it been the other way round? Had he merely been a puppet in the love story each girl had fantasized about ever since they were little? Had his lifestyle been as stereotypical of rich men as it was policemen buying donuts?

"Noah? Are you alright? Forgive if I've_"

"No, it's fine, Kurt. My sex life is no private matter. I prided myself once upon a time but sex is sex to me now. The novelty's gone. That or my hormones aren't as crazy as they were," explained Noah, shaking his head as he rested his elbows on the table.

He was a billionaire aphrodisiac, a walking bank note that gave off sexual vibrations, but sex was losing its shares in his stock market. It's not what he wanted, but then he didn't know what he wanted. Here he was, engaged to be married and all the while never having experienced sex with genuine feelings, sex fueled by any emotional passion working his muscles or love powering his thrusts. Everything had been lust at first sight but never... love? He didn't think he knew what love was. "It doesn't mean I'm celibate now, though. I may not be as active but I've still got the urge."

"I'm sure you do and I'm sure your fiancée will be very happy to hear that. Oh Noah, you're very lucky. Quinn's beautiful, she's feminine, she's everything a man wants in a woman," assured Kurt, placing a hand on Noah's forearm as the man looked at him, as if still trying to digest what was being said.

Noah knew Kurt was trying to raise his spirits, boost his morale but he didn't know Quinn like he did. No one really knew. It's not that she was stupid and uncultivated but she was flighty and self-centred. Not what a man like him wanted, but he didn't tell Kurt that. He didn't want the boy to think his efforts were wasted. However, as Kurt smiled at him before looking at the café clock, he gasped. "No, no, no that can't be the time, can it?! Damn, I'm going to be late, I've got to go!"

"Go where? Kurt, wait!" Noah was bewildered by the sudden dash of rapid action as Kurt had put down his napkin, hopped off his stool and all but run out of the café in the space of a single minute, his hand waving behind him as he left. However, through it all, Noah's instincts had kicked in and with his high school athleticism, he sprinted after Kurt, careful not to catapult pedestrians into the road as he rounded the hurrying boy and stopped before him, holding his arms out to prevent a collision. "Whoa, Kurt, you run like the wind. Okay, I know you need to go places but I was wondering if you wanted to... I mean if you wanted to come along with my friends and me to the Balencia Ball on Wednesday night?"

"What? The Balencia..." Kurt trailed off as the impatient hopping and agitated faces he was pulling ceased on the spot. The Balencia Ball was known to anyone who paid attention to the life of the rich and famous as the single most celebrated Cotillion and Beautillion ball in America. It was a formal dance and social gathering that took place at the Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue and had beaten its international competitors such as the Queen Charlotte's Ball in London by miles in terms of widespread coverage and popularity. The presentation of debutantes, bachelors, celebutantes and socialites were the highlights and the ball itself was a carousing event where, if one rejected an invitation, it would forever be considered the dumbest move ever, and for Kurt, there was only one answer. "No."

"Oh... okay... I get it," replied Noah, his eyes widening in surprise before his heart fell, the powerful meaning of that single word crumpling his face as he looked down at the ground in rejection.

He hadn't at all anticipated such an answer. It hadn't even occurred to him that there was going to be any other word other than yes, but no. The word 'no' was all he got, as if punishing him for procrastinating on such an important invitation. He really wanted Kurt to attend. He thought he'd want to, what with his skill in dance. It would have been a great opportunity to introduce him to his friends and family, possible contacts that could strengthen his modelling career, even one in dance if he so wished, not to mention another excuse to meet again, away from the prying eyes of the public. "Don't worry about it, Kurt... it's a total sucker's paradise anyway."

"No, it's not, and you know it's not. You really want me there but you just don't want me to know that, do you," muttered Kurt quietly, his voice soft as he shifted closer to Noah's drooping body. Either this man was acting his ass off for a pity party to come to town or he was genuinely upset. Kurt didn't know.

Had Noah been building the courage to ask him all this time? While they'd been eating lunch and talking about personal bests and virginity, had Noah been planning on what exact words he was going to say? Kurt didn't know. However, after what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time, the man eventually pulled his gaze from the oh so interesting ground up to his face, Kurt's question answering itself with a single look from those magnetic hazel eyes. "Well, you know what, Noah... of course, I'll go to the ball with you! Silly!"

"What?! But you said_"

"I know what I said, Noah, but life isn't interesting if you play it _straight_. Call me tonight about the details, okay? Now I have to dash. Thanks again for lunch, bye!"

Kurt grinned as he playfully shoved Noah's shoulder reassuringly, his giggles trailing behind him like sonic perfume as he ran down the sun emblazoned street. It was a sight to photograph with a million blinks. One that Noah would easily set as his background on his laptop at home or frame on his living room wall. Though it was not just for the sight of pedestrians parting like the red sea for a lone white figure dancing in the rays that held significance, but that today would mark the day he'd made a new friend. He'd made a friend all by himself. Kurt was a good person and he was going to be a great friend. Noah was going to keep him close and appreciate his company unlike his peers at home.

For Kurt was his now.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"I'm so sorry for ditching you in the park earlier, Lola, I didn't mean to," Kurt apologized, joining Carmen and Lola in his living room along with Carlson, their arms laden with plates and bowls of popcorn, ice cream, Doritos and dip. It wasn't the kind of food Kurt often feasted on except on special occasions. In fact, his appetite had already been satisfied with the filling lunch with Noah a few hours ago, and he hadn't even finished it, but now as he looked down at the junk food in his hands and compared it to the earlier perfection that was Mangia cuisine, he sighed. The place was definitely a hidden gem he'd bring his friends to come check out but an unexplained part of him didn't want to, like what Noah had brought him to was intended for him and Kurt alone, no one else. "It's just that Noah found me and then we got to talking, and then we got to eating, and no, it wasn't a date. Just dismiss that notion from your mind."

"I didn't say anything, although I might need some convincing. Truth is, I'm surprised he was willing to be seen out in public with you after that little tumble you had," giggled Lola as she pulled herself up from her reclining position on the couch before helping to distribute the food on the coffee table. Admittedly having eaten alone at the boathouse's express café had been worth getting back at Kurt, judging by the sympathetic looks she'd received from others as if she'd just been stood up by a date, but even she would let that pass to allow her lovebird Doll Face to enjoy his lunch date. "You should have seen him. He was hiding from Puckerman behind one of those huge-ass lollipops you find at funfairs only to trip on his way out of the marquee. It's probably on its way now to be uploaded on some fail blog on YouTube."

"Wait a minute, why were you hiding from him? And since when have you been calling him 'Noah'?" Carmen asked incredulously, picking up a bag of Doritos before sitting back down the couch, allowing Lola to rest her feet in her lap. Kurt's brand spanking new 'friendship' with the billionaire had never been uttered during their shopping spree earlier, neither had it been mentioned when they'd arrived back at his place for a movie marathon until a few minutes ago.

Carlson had, indeed, informed her and Lola that they'd escaped the Padova Pad to talk privately in the hotel below but they hadn't thought anything of it. Not even when they'd apparently 'swapped numbers'. "I mean, I didn't even know two were friends. Last time, I checked, you were running around like a headless chicken trying to flee from him."

"He was, except every time he does he always finds back in the man's arms like some human boomerang. It's so romantic," cooed Lola as she placed her hands over her heart and sighed in happiness, Kurt rolling his eyes as Carmen giggled. Even though, everyone knew Noah Puckerman was a devout and somewhat strict heterosexual, it didn't seem his well-known sexual preferences were to act as a barrier in preventing both girls in repetitively teasing Kurt relentlessly about his friendship with the man. The boy wanted to joke along with them but the history of his inability to make friends with the same sex due to a supposed fear of an attraction of some sort was enough to make him scowl. "And yes, I know I may have aided him this time in finding you but come on, Kurt, Puckerman only came down to see you."

"Aww, that's sweet. You know, Kurt, now that you're friends with 'Noah', you can bring us all to his parties as your plus ones, right?" Carmen looked at enthusiastically, Lola bobbing her head up and down and as Kurt continued to observe them warily. Did they really think that he'd just made friends with Noah so that he could take advantage of his influence and status? Did they think him to be that superficial? It was preposterous. He wasn't going to use Noah for personal gain. He suspected everyone had done that to the man including the women who were now themselves boasting that they'd slept with some horny billionaire who wasn't all that in bed. "It'll be so much fun, though warn us when you two start making out on the couch, alright. PDAs freak me out. Urgh, can we rewind the movie? I didn't catch what that girl sai_"

"No, don't. We can't... um... otherwise we'll run overtime," protested Kurt as he held his arm out, Carlson halting to push the button on the remote as all three of them looked over at him with frowns. Running over time? That was the point of movie marathons. They were supposed to last well into the early hours of the morning where one would eventually wake up on the floor in a sleeping bag or a mattress of last night's crumbs, but he just couldn't let this happen if he was to be attending the Balencia Ball, an event he knew would send his friends into hysterical shrieks of astonishment. They were already mocking him about Noah. No more. "I have a big thing Wednesday night and if I want to be dancing the whole way through it, I've got to stick to my bedtime schedule. Still, no more late nights for this little bird."

"But if you don't rewind it, I won't know what they're going on about, and Wednesday is like four days away so you've got time," Carmen complained as she whined in a very similar sounding voice to Lola's when the blonde would hop around like a rabbit begging for the restroom when one wasn't nearby. However, it was an annoying response Kurt preferred. It seemed as though his last few words hadn't attracted attention and it was just as well. The tedious river of questions would start erupting, and Kurt didn't know whether he'd have the humanity not to plunge them all down the toilet if they did. Except for Carlson. His manpower would come in handy in unblocking the pipes. "Wait a second, what you mean you'll want to be 'dancing'? Where are you going? A club? You're sleeping in for a club?"

"It's not a club per se, it's more formal than that, you know, with suits and big poufy dresses, champagne and classical waltzes and... and..." trailed Kurt, his voice going quiet as he noticed both Lola and Carmen's eyes widen with every passing second. They knew. Goddamn it, he'd said too much and now they knew. Nothing was going to protect him now, or his apartment from the looks of it, because within his next intake of breath, both girls had launched themselves up from the couch, spilling the bowl of popcorn to the floor as they did, and hugged him, his own blue eyes bulging out of their sockets from the sheer compression.

A typhoon of rushed and frenzied words came spilling out of their mouths once they'd freed him, but all he could make out were 'oh my God, 'Balencia!' and 'lucky fuck!' How eloquent. "It's not a big deal! I'm only going because Noah really wanted me to go."

"Wait, Puckerman invited you?! Well, of course, he'd want you to go! After the way you danced at the spectacle you're like the greatest accessory anyone in his position could have! You're like the Chanel of dancers!" exclaimed Carmen as she went in for another bone-crushing hug. If he hadn't been out of breath because of it he would have gone on to say that no, he and Noah were not going to share a dance together. God forbid. Kurt was merely the latest addition to his entourage for that night; in fact, the boy wasn't sure he'd hit the dance floor at all. Everyone would have dates. Noah would have Quinn and they would rule the night, and even if Kurt asked his friends to join him, he couldn't. He couldn't abuse his invitation. "Oh, my God! Okay look, Elite must have an understanding with the magazines. They must allow the models to wear the designer clothes from their vaults or something and if we can just_"

"Wait, Kurt, I've got to warn you about something..." began Carlson as the man observed three faces turn to eye him with frowns.

He'd been sitting in the armchair next to the couch listening into the conversation, no matter how uninterested he looked, but now he was getting worried. Kurt had become like a younger brother to him and baby sibling to all his acting friends at the theater. He felt like a guardian who needed to warn the boy of entering a world where inadvertence, by indiscretion and carelessness, could lead one to be talked about, but more often than not, in an unwelcoming way.

"You may... I mean, you've got to be careful. You're young, Kurt. You're new to New York and already you're mingling with its society. People will try to take advantage of that and_"

"Are you suggesting Noah is taking advantage of me? Carlson, there's nothing worth taking advantage of, we're just friends," replied Kurt smiling slightly, nearing Carlson as Lola and Carmen both looked at each other. The smile was supposed to be a sign of reassurance, though not for Carlson, but for himself. He was starting to become uneasy by the serious tone in the man's voice, a tone he'd only heard back at the theater on his first day of work experience. Just the mere sound of it conjured negative possibilities, but all this superstition was ridiculous. He wasn't a pawn in any so-called game Noah was playing. Just because the man was a rich heir and he was the babe in the woods of skyscrapers didn't mean he was eventually going to be led like a lamb to the slaughter. This wasn't concern. This was irrationality. "Do you object to my talking to Mr. Puckerman?"

"I don't give two straws about Puckerman, Kurt, I care about you. We all do. Thanks to your modeling, everyone in this city now knows your face as well as his, which is what the job entails... but this now makes you more vulnerable," explained Carlson, standing from his seat and placing his hands on either side of Kurt's arms as he looked into the boy's blue eyes.

Was Kurt's going to this ball a smart move? It was harmless enough. After all, it was merely a frivolous chance for celebrities to relive their high school proms by dancing with other celebrities. A kid's disco but with alcohol. "You can talk to Noah as much as you like but, please, don't let anything or anyone lead you to comprise yourself. If you pride yourself and carry yourself with dignity, you'll be fine but, if you don't, they'll eat you alive."


	10. The Balencia Ball

Walking slowly out of his bathroom, his footsteps light and his breath hanging in the balance as if it were to go completely with one false sight, Kurt crossed his bedroom and went to stand in front of his full length mirror, his eyes widening. It was Wednesday evening, the night of the Balencia Ball, and he was dressed up to the nines in a very fitting white Tom Ford suit with a boutonniere, petaled in blue to imitate the signature blue rose. It had been his idea. The flower traditionally associated itself with royal blood, and thus it denoted regal majesty and splendor, a perfect little companion to accompany him to such an event. However, one other thing the blue rose also interestedly signified was hope against unattainable love. The meaning didn't apply to him but what could not be blessed on him could be blessed on another. Who knew what secret love stories were to be secretly told on the dance floor tonight.

Adjusting his Bondi blue shirt and tie, Kurt really had to compliment Tom Ford on his work. Yesterday afternoon, he had paid a visit to his modeling agency and had informed them of his invitation to the ball. They in turn informed him that he wasn't the sole model attending, what with it being high profile, and that designers from all over the fashion world were very keen to clothe them in creations from their latest collections. Tom Ford was amongst many of the designers wishing to further promote his work and after his successful cloaking of James Bond in 'Skyfall', another headlining event was in order, and what better event than the Balencia ball? Kurt had been allowed to see various tuxedos and suits, all elegant, all dapper but and after coming across a particular outfit from Mr. Ford's spring/summer 2013 collection, the search was over.

Now as he observed his bold, colorful and vibrant appearance, his shirt and tie fully enriched with purple and white hues and patterns, he decided he was doing this not for himself but for Kurt a months back who had peeked around his living room curtains and watched as limousine after limousine had driven down his road filled with his heavily made up peers. He hadn't gone. He hadn't had a date. He hadn't even had any friends to go with since Mercedes had gone with Sam and Artie had gone with his girlfriend. Feeling like the third wheel had not been an option and as a result of all past opportunities lost, he was determined to make this evening count. Though he wasn't the only one. Charlotta and Forde, the makeup, hair and wardrobe directors from most of his past shoots, had come to his apartment to work their magic and all Kurt could do was bless his luck.

He looked beautiful.

"Oh! I missed a spot. Wait a minute Kurt; you have a little... there. Done," flustered Charlotta, running over to him with a comb and adjusting his wave like hair before spraying it with another cough inducing cloud of hairspray. His hair didn't usually need much maintenance. In fact he barely touched it all. He usually styled it into a side parting with a touch of volume to avoid flat looking hair but now that his sight was no longer comprised by spray so thick his reflection had disappeared, he hardly recognized it. It looked as if Charlotta had plugged in some sort of voluminous tube into his hair and had repeatedly pumped and pumped at it until it didn't look far off from Marilyn Monroe's do when she sang to Kennedy. "Okay, now I don't want you dancing for too long. That has to stay like that throughout."

"Yeah, and I don't want you spilling anything on that suit either. Even the stain from a debutante's tear when she finds out her dress is actually from an off the rack joint in Queens cannot land on that, so be careful," warned Forde as she came to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders before she began picking off any stray traces of dust from the lapels. Even though he was going to the ball and even though this was a big deal for him, Kurt didn't have the courage to stand there and say he wouldn't be dancing. He wouldn't even be going near the bar. Sitting at a table watching everyone on the dance floor was not the saddest thing in the world. He would just appreciate it all, take it all in, and offer his smiles. "Oh Kurt, aren't you the prettiest boy who ever lived?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen them all," replied Kurt quietly as both Charlotta and Forde paced backwards to admire him from a distance. It was made evident that both girls really liked working on him. 'A face to shame a Victorian Doll' they had said on numerous occasions, like an adorable creature fresh from this point in time. Kurt was used to these compliments but he supposed he'd never tire of hearing them. Being thought of as cute did conjure up images of youth, and what better imagery when he was working in an industry that valued that above all else. Fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, Kurt took in the proud looks on both his assistant's faces. Every crease had been smoothed out and every blemish removed. Only perfection was left now. "Do you think what I'm wearing is alright? Should I be wearing black? The men usually do, don't they?"

"Kurt, you're no mere 'man', you're a model. There's a difference. So what if you upstage some of the girls, so what? You'll show that men's attire doesn't have to be restricted to the shades," assured Forde as Kurt returned to the mirror, checking himself out once again. Tom Forde's spring line was supposed to incorporate glamor and luxe into one with 'Dress up Boys!' acting as the official tagline. On him, it was complimentary to his slender physique and the color coding of the outfit only served to accentuate his baby blue eyes, a feature and natural birth gift his mother had given him that he really wanted to emphasize. "Now how are you getting there? You can't surely be walking like you did at the spectacle and if you so much as use public transport, I will-"

"No Forde, I'm not taking a cab or the bus or the subway or anything of the sort. In fact I'm traveling in a seed that will sprout into a pumpkin carriage with mice that will morph into horses. You'll see, it'll take me right up there to the palace, oh great Fairy Godmother," replied Kurt sarcastically as he made his way back into the bathroom to spray a scent that would forever associate its accords with the ball, Coco Mademoiselle, the youthful version of Chanel's classic No. 5. It had been a parting gift from Mercedes after graduation, and tonight, he was wearing it for both of them. "You and Tom Ford will be pleased to know that Noah has kindly offered to take me there with his entourage. He's supposed to be picking me up in a few minutes and knowing the Puckerman's, it'll probably be a vehicle that's either made out of pure gold or was in a vintage spy film."

"Well you're dishing out the dough if anything happens to that sui-"

"Shhh!" ordered Kurt as he placed a finger to his lips, Forde quietening as all their ears pricked for a sound. There it was. The sound of a smooth engine coming to a halt outside, the sound of a door opening and closing and the sound of Kurt's rushing footsteps to the open window to see if who he thought had come was all that met the ears, and what he saw, confirmed his predictions. A stunning night black limousine had been parked right outside his building on the street, the reflection of the moon's rays made quite evident on the mirror like coating. Its engine was still humming happily and as he observed the assistant chauffeur rounding the vehicle before attempting to open the door, it opened from within. "Oh my..."

Stepping out onto the pavement was New York City's very own James Bond, Noah Puckerman, dressed in impressive black fitted tailoring, his physique outlined by tight woven seams and a simple white shirt that transcended all possible expectations. Kurt's knees felt like they were going to buckle under the feather like support his legs were giving him because yes, there was Noah, boasting without thought, his masculinity, his appearance but above all, his loin burning appeal. He didn't even care who the man was wearing but judging by the expensive looking material of it all, it had to be at least as opulent as Armani. There really was no doubt. His eyes were stolen and caught by the sight of silver and as he looked down to see the man's expensive cufflinks, which only oozed further class, Kurt concluded right then and there that Noah Puckerman was the ultimate sex in a suit.

"Good evening Mr. Puckerman! How are you tonight?" greeted Charlotta, waving frantically as both she and Forde had rushed to the window, nudging Kurt aside in the process as they were granted the sight of his hunky ride raising his gaze to the window before throwing them both a dazzling smile. However, it was just as well. The boy, by no fault of his own, had begun drooling, near forming at the mouth and the last thing he needed was having Charlotta on his back about ruining the light shimmer on his lips that she had spent ten minutes shading with three different lip-glosses.  _Women_... Huffing to himself as he moved away from the window, Kurt breathed a huge breath before settling away his nerves, distracting as they were. "You look very handsome in your tux if I may say so myself!"

"Well thanks, ladies! It's always nice to not only be greeted but also complimented by New York's finest looking women. I am very lucky!" thanked Noah, shooting them both his signature smirk, accompanied with a wink. It was flirty and harmless and Kurt didn't know whether he was the sole one there who was anxious. Both Charlotta and Forde seemed confident and grounded enough, but by the time their eyes had taken in Noah's wink, everything had changed, because with a loud thump, Charlotta fainted. She hit the floor contently as both the model and his wardrobe stylist looked down at her with amusement, their giggles barely muffled by their tightly lipped mouths. "Hello?! Are you still there?! Um... can someone please tell Kurt that I'm here! Anyone?!"

"He's making his way down! He should be with you shortly!" shouted Forde, quickly running to the window to inform the fretting man below before turning to face Kurt, who was now pacing up and down his room relentlessly. Who knew how long Charlotta was going to remain blissfully knocked out. For all shew knew, the girl could stay planted there for another hour or wake up at any second, and if Forde hadn't been here for Kurt, she would have snapped a whole photoshoot worth of pictures on her phone and uploaded them to Twitter, but she didn't. She had a model to assure. "Kurt, you've got the charm, you've got the looks and you've got the wit. If you can strike them dead on the catwalk, then you sure as hell can strike them dead on the dance floor, now go!"

Down outside on the street below, paced a man who was desperately trying to instill patience within himself. He had spent the last hour at his penthouse along with Quinn and the rest of his troupe getting themselves dolled up ready for the ball, another high profile evening which to them was just another run of the mill generic social gathering with champagne and caviar. Though admittedly, the Balencia would always turn into a rocking party under the crystal chandeliers of the Plaza by the end of the traditional custom like dance of bowing and curtsying, but his attention hadn't been anywhere but on the final guest he was due to collect. Kurt had accepted the verbal invitation and had given him his address for directions but as they had approached nearer the time, nearer to the model's apartment, Noah's nerves had felt as delicate as a silk woven web. Was there the possibility that Kurt wouldn't want to come in the end? Had he changed his mind? Was he even... e-even...  _Sweet Jesus._..

"Damn..." muttered Noah in disbelief, his jaw hitting the ground in the wake of Kurt, the archangelic boy, stepping lightly down the stone steps in front of him, a smile gracing his delicate features. Right then, Noah was at a loss for words, but it was just as well. Words weren't enough to express the incandescent sight he was beholding at that moment. The moon's caressing rays was illuminating Kurt so flatteringly that his porcelain skin and perfectly coiffed hair had never looked more beautiful. He was like a figure that had escaped from the ceiling paintings of a cathedral in the Vatican City, from a long lost masterpiece of Leonardo Da Vinci that had only now been discovered and brought to life before his very eyes, eyes that never blinked. "W-Wow Kurt, you look... I mean you look..."

"Well, I hope the ending of your sentence is good, but don't worry, I have a pretty good idea," replied Kurt as the next thing Noah knew, he was gawking unattractively in front of the most perfect looking creature he'd ever met, who had by now descended the stairs and was smiling back up at him, a melodious giggle escaping from his rose tinted lips. The boy had found it rare to see a speechless expression on Noah's face. It wasn't one worn frequently and it never made more than two or three appearances a year, but with it now staring right back in his face, he could only feel proud that in his case, he had conjured it all on his own, just for him. "Mime artists could learn from you, Noah. You make an excellent living statue impression, and a handsome one at that. You look great."

"Well I always aim to please. I can't afford to do injustice to these bad boys," replied Noah, smirking he as flexed his roaring biceps. Only, there was problem. The sleeves of Noah's tuxedo weren't as tight as Kurt's which meant the boy saw nothing but a raised arm, but as Noah huffed in agitation that his show's star performers were hidden by the stage curtains, Kurt quickly shot out his hand and felt the impressive Puckerman 'guns', gently squeezing inch by inch of concealed but tensed muscle that had him nodding in appreciation. Full manpower was definitely in those arms. Noah would have no problem lifting Quinn on the dance floor but before he could retract his hand to enter the limousine, the tanned man swiftly took hold of his hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it, his lips grazing over vanilla shaded skin. "But you Kurt, you are dressed to kill. Gimme sweet death is all I can say..."

With a roar of the engine and the slamming of doors, Noah and Kurt both quickly bustled themselves into the limo as it peeled off the street and headed off to the ball. As it smoothly drove along the road, Kurt made himself comfortable whilst at the same time taking in the splendor of the exotic vehicle. It was a Cadillac beauty, unlike the monstrosities his high school had hired for his prom, with supple leather upholstery, soft ambient lighting and a million other luxury features to wonder at for the next hour, offering a good enough eye candy distraction to the hand kiss Noah had given him prior to entering. The man had feathered his lips over his skin so lightly that they had hardly touched yet the boy had definitely felt something. It had been wet and ever so soothing, like a light lick of the tongue on his unsuspecting flesh, as if Noah had been seeking a taste. However, Kurt had done nothing in return but smile gratefully back, fully ignoring the odd looks the chauffeur had shot him because to be honest, he too didn't know what had possessed Noah to do such a thing.

"Kurt, I'd like to introduce you tall my friends. Finn Hudson and his girlfriend Rachel Berry. Finn's currently serving in the army whilst Rachel is studying here at NYADA," introduced Noah as he gestured over to the tall good looking man and his date over by the far end of the limo by the sliding partition, a man Kurt had seen with Noah at his Central Park photoshoot last week. His hand was on Rachel's leg and as they both greeted him with warm smiles and a casual wave, Kurt nodded politely. He wasn't going to inform Rachel that her boyfriend had been flirting with some of the models that day out of spite, no matter how tempting it was considering she was at NYADA and he wasn't. "Over here we have Mike Chang and his girlfriend Tina Cohen-Chang. Mike is a student at the Joffrey Ballet Academy of Dance in Chicago whilst Tina is on sabbatical."

Nodding his head politely once again, Kurt shifted his attention from the sleek stretched car to the outfits all these people were wearing. Chanel, Dior, Oscar De La Renta, names, names, names. Even the men were wearing someone. If this was to go on, not a single rich bitch at the ball was going to be seen in anything less than designer fabulous. As a result, Kurt stroked his jacket with comfort, happy that his fashion instincts had kicked in just the right amount of daring and boldness to make sure that not only was he wearing a design glamorous enough to pass but that it subsequently offered him great courage. "Here we have Santana Lopez and her girlfriend Britney Pierce. Santana is studying cheerleading at the University of Louisville and Britney, like Tina, is on sabbatical, and last but not least, we have my... fiancée, Quinn Fabray, currently studying Drama at Yale University."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I've got to admit you all look... so good," complimented Kurt, attempting to replace the now blank stares he was receiving with smiles. However as most of them grinned sympathetically back, admiring his efforts, Quinn could only further inspect him, as well as her fiancé. Noah was leaning forward in his seat next to her, throwing Kurt a set of reassuring smiles as he took in his friend's reactions. However, through it all, it seemed as though Kurt had shrunk in size. Either that or they had grown exponentially taller because in the small space of several minutes, the boy's height had definitely lowered. Were they always this harsh to newcomers? Or was it because it involved Noah and a model. "Well I suppose since I know a little about you that it's only fair that I tell you a little about me."

"Oh we know who you are, Kurt. You're the toast of the modeling world. Your face is everywhere. In fact most of us here saw you at the Salvatore," began Rachel as she leaned forward and smiled, a chorus of nodding heads confirming her words. Of course, they'd attended. They must have joined Noah as a group before continuing on to the Padova Pad where they no doubt must have witnessed the poor behavior he had showed Noah. It had been a terrible first impression and Kurt was just grateful they were giving another chance, except for Santana, who was mindlessly drinking glass upon glass of cocktails from the small bar in front of her with a look that clearly didn't think very highly of him."I recently read the interview you did for LOVE Magazine. Correct me if I'm wrong but I remember you saying you were unintentionally discovered in an old theater?"

"Yes, I was. I was to do work experience there for a year on a sabbatical after I was rejected from my first choice college, NYADA," confirmed Kurt as everyone's attentions were now solely on him, not that they hadn't been for the past five minutes. As predicted Rachel pulled a pained face when she learned of his unsuccessful application to NYADA, a look shrugged off by Kurt as he steamed on ahead. He didn't want pity hanging on his shoulders as well as judgement but then talking about it was in a way a form of accepting his rejection. He'd been rejected but he was now a model. A model. Maybe that letter had been the best thing to ever happen to him. "I was discovered by my own co-workers after they saw a set of music videos I was in back in high school, but I was hesitant at first because every route I've taken in my life, every decision I've made has always been for Broadway. Always, but my dad convinced me to give it a go and after I was cast in the Salvatore, it pretty much sealed the deal."

"Do you regret it... Kurt?" asked Noah suddenly as the attention rose from Kurt and onto him. To many in their party, his face would merely display genuine curiosity to a very good question, one that had Kurt raising his eyes to the ceiling in thought, but to Quinn, it was different. Noah's face was one to question. She had been closely observing the way he and Kurt had been communicating, their close body language, the lingering looks, and the kiss on the hand that she had witnessed before they left. All of it had become very suspicious. She didn't want to indulge in Noah's whims like a madman in a play. The least he could do was oblige her by behaving as became her future husband and not make a spectacle of himself with some pretty twink. It was sordidly obscene. "Going against your childhood dream? Do you regret it?"

"Actually no, I don't Noah. If I hadn't accepted my agency's offer then I wouldn't be sitting here with you friendly people," smiled Kurt, as everyone's grin widened before bursting into a choir of laughter. At the sight, Noah's expression warmed. This is what he wanted. He had wished for some time now to introduce Kurt to his friends. He had wanted the boy to enter his personal circle and he was glad it was all working out. Yet there was still an underlying factor that had his mind racing. Kurt was male, and Noah had never been this intent on strengthening a friendship with another boy. Not even with Finn. Maybe it was beauty. Maybe he just liked being surrounded by beautiful things. Or maybe it was something entirely different.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

With a roar of applause and the clinking of champagne glasses later, the debutante presentation and traditional courtship ended. Each beautiful debutante, dressed in tulle, ribbons and lace gowns, turned to face their handsome beautillion partners and curtseyed politely, whilst the men bowed respectively back, so ending their dance. It was quite a sight if Kurt said so himself. In fact, it felt as though this whole event weren't within the realms of New York but in a French Chateau somewhere, the life of the busy city just outside the building vanishing in the light of something so opulent. When they'd first arrived, Kurt had hardly believed his eyes. The decoration committee or whichever stylist had overseen the direction of the ballroom's decor had clearly out done themselves, with every room in the Plaza having been lined every which way with six feet tall wedding bouquets and footman with scarlet red coats guarding the doors.

The grand ballroom itself, which was supposed to be the crown jewel of the hotel, had certainly not been spared the royal treatment. Blue, purple, and candlelight gel lights had been installed in carefully hidden spots near the pillars and ceiling to render the room a near fairytale like look, with a holographic projection of an intricate pattern of the colors projected onto the ceiling. The looming crystal chandeliers above had all been tinted purple whilst the proscenium stage towards the end of the room boasted its window like arch with an array of beautifully crafted golden cherubs, angels and gods. Down below, the ground was covered in candlelit tables and matching white veiled chairs, upholstered in white embroidered silk, topped with silver cutlery and large glass like replicas of blooming snow dripping trees.

Finally, in the center of the room was the dance floor, sparkling with diamond shaped outlines and glittered with crusts of sparkling jewels. The sight was very similar to the pictures Kurt had seen of the wedding between Thomas and Emily Puckerman. Very similar indeed. Possibly a recreation, but with a few alterations here and there to accommodate a ball of impressive proportions. Now, however, Kurt was sitting at his designated table with the rest of his party, or the remains of it. After the debutante celebrations, the dance floor was now free for everyone to use and since then, each table had been abandoned for a waltz to the music from the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. It was beautiful really. Couples dancing under such fantastical lighting, everything as it ought to be and all of it observed by everyone around with near glistening eyes.

"Everyone looks so good its criminal," complained Tina as she viewed the many hundreds of well dressed socialites in the low lit, yet atmospherically tinted room. The Asian girl, along with her boyfriend Mike, were one of the sole couples not dancing, but it wasn't anything Kurt was complaining about. They were keeping him from being left completely abandoned at their table whilst he lamely sat and drank his strawberry lemonade with a grouchy look on this face. Whether that was a cliché or not, he didn't know, but he was grateful for their company. "I have got to find out who their stylists are, and then I'll kidnap them so that I'll never go out looking like this again."

"Sweetie, you don't need a stylist. Stylists are only for those who have no artistic eye and I think you have got plenty of it," clarified Mike, wrapping an arm around Tina's shoulders and looking at her with an adorable smile. It was true what the man had said. Apart from agreeing on the fact that stylists nowadays were overrated in the entertainment world, what Tina had on was far from atrocious. A chic black satin gown, with upper length gloves, vintage designer jewellery and topped with a feather headdress was enough to make anyone awe at the woman. "Besides, I'd prefer that you dress yourself up, not that you be a living, breathing mannequin to some bitchy perfectionist."

"Boyfriends just don't get it do they?" asked Tina rhetorically to Kurt as the boy laughed at the mock insulted expression that has sprung up on Mike's face. Talking on the subject of relationships again wasn't comfortable territory for Kurt, although he supposed that Blaine always had good taste. Throughout the three months that they had dated, to make up for everything that had been wrong with what they had, Blaine had gone out of his way to shower Kurt with beautiful yet pointless gifts that would have had him complaining if it hadn't been for the fact that the boy's family was rather wealthy. Yes, materialistic gain had been tempting but in the end, unfulfilling. "Have you ever had this problem Kurt?"

"Well my ex-boyfriend did have quite the eye when it came to fashion so I guess I'm lucky there but I'm sure Mike will come to understand soon enough," giggled Kurt as Tina threw him a light hearted envious look, Mike rolling his eyes as he lightly shoved his shoulder shoved his girlfriend. What this couple had and was exhibiting in front of him was what Kurt was hoping to find some day. Though not anytime soon what with his calendar packed to the core with upcoming dates of relaxation but hopefully, sometime in the future, he'd have strong arms to hold him close in the night. "I was wondering how long you two have been together? It's just that I couldn't help noticing you're very comfortable with each other."

"About... six months ago, so at the start of March," confirmed Mike, looking from Tina to Kurt as he replied. Were they in love? Possibly. Possibly not. Kurt had no idea how long it took to develop such profound feelings, but the two seemed happy and that was the main thing. In fact, the room seemed to be full with it. Each couple on the dance floor was exuding such romantic vibes that it was hard to go a miss, especially when it came to Noah and Quinn, who were waltzing their way through everyone like it was nobody's business. Until now Kurt had never known Noah to have such moves, especially when it came to the ball room but there he was, leading his fiancée with as much grace as Quinn herself. "They look good together, don't they? Like a perfect match."

"They do... how long have they known each other for? Must be some time now," inquired Kurt as he looked back over at the Asian couple, their eyes now so unfocused and dreamlike that it was hard to garner their attention. It was true that both Noah and Quinn did fit each other better than most around, and it was clear their table wasn't the only one with similar thoughts. All around, people were eying them delightedly whilst letting out choruses of 'awws' even though it did come off as patronizing. However, Kurt didn't think the young couple cared all that much, or even took notice. The chemistry between them was plain to see and was such a distraction from table top conversation. "Er... Mike? Tina?"

"Oh sorry... yeah, um, I think they've known each other since high school," answered Mike, snapping himself out of his daze as Tina giggled embarrassingly. This was a perfect chance to gain some sight into Noah and Quinn's relationship. His suspicions had been rising for some time now but he didn't want to assume anything. He wanted facts. "Their relationship's been on and off since then and they've had their fair share of drama but its only till recently that things got serious and now they're engaged. It's great. I've known Noah longer though, since elementary. Finn and I have been friends with him since then and been with him through it all: his dad's death, the girls, and the Mohawk or the 'babe magnet' as he used to call it."

"Ah yes, the Mohawk. I can't believe he did that. I mean I always thought he looked better with a full head of hair. Must have been a typical teenage faze," giggled Kurt as Tina nodded in agreement. Noah, like now, had even been of interest to the media back in high school, which had undoubtedly led to photos of the horrible haircut making their fair share of appearances on the newsstands. When trimmed and short, it was acceptable, but when allowed to roam free, it looked more like road kill that had been glued on to his scalp. It was a look the jocks at Kurt's school had attempted to imitate, claiming that if it brought all the girls to the yard like Noah had famously claimed, the do would stay. "But come to think of it, he looks good with it all shaved."

With another echoing round of applause, replacing the sound of bowed violin strings of, Kurt turned around to see the end of the dance, every couple on the glistening floor beaming as they retreated to their tables. It had been quite a long number for ballroom standards and must have proven quite a workout for those inexperienced, but as Kurt caught sight of Noah escorting Quinn back to their table after they had just been complimented by a set of onlookers, it looked as though the couple had barely broken a sweat. Deciding it was time for a change of scenery, and thinking it a good excuse to further check out the rich surroundings, Kurt gave Mike and Tina a parting wave before heading over to the bar. He didn't think it likely, but he thought he'd seen a dashing young man eying him from afar, and with the chance of a possible dance, Kurt's determination to meet this long gazing admirer doubled with each step.

"Dude, where you learn to dance like that?" asked Mike as Noah reached their table, a proud smirk crossing the heir's features as he held Quinn's chair out for her to sit on before politely tucking her in. Sitting himself down in the seat next to hers, Noah lounged back in his chair and continued his air of confidence as he picked up his glass of champagne and sipped at it non nonchalantly. To see an impressed near disbelieving look on Mike's face, the king of dance himself, was certainly something to feel pleased about, considering he'd never been the mover, and in that moment, he had the temptation to challenge him. Though everyone knew how that would end. "I didn't know you had that good of coordination."

"Well I didn't want to make an ass of myself in front of everyone so I learned the moves," shrugged Noah, placing his glass down onto the table as Tina raised her eyebrows in surprise. He'd learned the special debutante variation of the waltz, what with its mathematically expressive and intense yet elegant moves that at first glance resembled dancing swans, using their feathered white wings for courtship than for flight. "Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, you know, the Belgian experimental choreographer. He taught me. He was really good when it came to teaching me how to waltz, and yes, I would have asked you dude but then you would have seen how shit I was before I started and plus, I didn't want to miss the face you just pulled a minute go. Priceless."

"Oh, he's good. I'm surprised you got him to leave Antwerp for you, I mean the dance is tricky but you'll never guess what Kurt said earlier. He said he learned it all on his own just by watching past videos of the ball. A waltz with only him," commented Mike, Quinn whispering a silent 'wow' as Noah's eyes instantly shot around the table. Now that he came to think of it, Kurt wasn't here. He could have sworn he had been at least five minutes ago what with the subtle glimpses he'd shot him from the dance floor but no, his seat was empty and he was nowhere in sight. Mike, sensing the question Noah was itching to ask, relented to inform him of the model's whereabouts. After all, the man did hold responsibility for his invitees. "He went over to the bar a few minutes ago. I think he felt bad for us staying here just for him, what with him not having a partner and all."

"I don't think that's going to pose a problem now by the looks of it. Our Kurt has found himself some company," giggled Tina, pointing over to the bar at the far end of the ballroom as everyone turned to crane their necks over the crowd of coiffed heads. There Kurt was, listening to a handsome man beside him, chatting idly with a flirtatious glint in his eye, and although it served to make the others smile, it served one to scowl. It was of course inevitable that a good-looking kid like Kurt would attract attention, but Noah had been banking for a no show. Somehow, the sight before him rendered itself inappropriate, improper and anger inducing. Odd. "Maybe he'll get himself a well deserved time on the dance floor. He deserves it, don't you think?

"Well certainly. Kurt has a wondrous dancing talent and it would sure go to waste if he wasn't asked by someone," replied Quinn as she nodded at Tina's question. Although never turning up to a ball without a partner and experiencing the sideline depressive slideshow that the unfortunate ones would experience, she really thought it a pity that Kurt had no one. Most of the couples here, especially the debutantes and their beautillons, were now or already had been designated dance partners for the remainder of the evening. Noah was her's and had been ever since her very own debutante ball back when she'd been sixteen, but for newcomers like Kurt, who had merely straggled along for the ride, there was no ride, to ride. "I bet he'd look beautiful on that dance floor."

"He would, but I don't think that guy is good enough for him. He doesn't look strong enough to lift him into the air let alone direct him through a dance," muttered Noah grumpily, Quinn looking over at him with a frown as he glared menacingly at the man next to Kurt. Was this jealousy? If it was, it was bad news. It was insulting to Kurt and degrading to him and he had no right to inquire into any of it since it wasn't any of his business. Kurt could approach whomever he wanted; he could flirt with whomever he desired but this building possessive like need to prevent any possible suitor from nearing the boy was near enough to course the anger that had been running through him into action. Kurt did deserve a dance. He totally agreed with Quinn on that, but only with someone worth his while, someone worthy to hold him in their arms.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"And you never stumbled once? Wow, you must have great coordination," complimented Joshua, Kurt smiling back affably as his new bar friend awed at the memory he had just recounted. It had all been on the subject of the limited rehearsal time he'd had for the Salvatore Spectacle, but he didn't think he'd explained it very eloquently. Most of the time he'd been too busy wondering if this handsome man before him was actually talking to the right person but from the intense look he was being given, a non-verbal confirmation was all that was needed. "I'm no good at the graceful dancing like it is here. I'm more into jumping around, if you can even call that it that. I suppose it could qualify as modern dance but it's too… uncoordinated for such a distinction."

"So just plain old 'just moving my body every which way without looking stupid' dancing?" giggled Kurt as he crossed his legs, his foot lightly grazing Joshua's shin. At the touch, the man looked down. Kurt had never in his life flirted with anyone, unless he'd done it without knowing, but he hoped the action wasn't intrusive. He was just copying what they always did in the movies, no matter how exaggerated or unrealistic it was. "Well posture is everything when it comes to the waltz. It's just an added bonus I just channeled what I had learned from my lessons into the show. It was quite entertaining watching the other models attempting at even letting it loose. I seriously thought their stick thin legs were going to snap at any second."

"See that's it. I never saw the appeal in thighs that small. I always like a little meat on the bone," chuckled Joshua, as he not so subtly replied to Kurt's leg touch with his own form of interest. With a raise of his hand and a stroke of fingers later, he began trailing his thick palm over Kurt's, which had been resting on the bar top, inviting the man for an oh so demanding touch. However, for Kurt, it took all the power within him not to grab and hold onto it for the course of the night. Were these the set of hands that were to waltz him on the dance floor? Were they? "Did you come with anyone tonight, Kurt? I mean you couldn't have possibly arrived alone taken what a picture you are tonight."

"No I didn't, but I-"

"So, would you care for this next dance? I'd love it if you'd accompany me for the next waltz," pleaded Joshua as the feather like touch that had been hovering over Kurt's hand suddenly took hold of it, and held it firmly yet softly in a grip that had the boy begging to say yes. It was as if the man had read his mind exactly, seen through him like translucent paper and delved deep in his eyes for that one desire. Though Kurt was still hesitant. Although he had seen the odd same sex couple on the dance floor, he didn't think it wise to go flitting off waltzing with people he had just met. He wasn't accustomed to it and he didn't think it polite to Noah and his company. Then again, they all had partners and he was the odd one out. They must have sympathized with him to some extent. They would allow him at least one dance, surely.

Meanwhile as Kurt nodded his head, hopped off his stool and headed towards the dance floor with his new partner, Noah was overseeing the whole thing as a joke. Talking was enough but dancing, seriously? Boundaries were being crossed here and he didn't think highly of it. He had been the one to invite Kurt. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be here. If anything, he had the right to dance with him. Noah blinked. It was a tempting idea. One that would prevent others from harassing the boy with unwanted company. After all, that's how he was seeing it. Kurt had just wanted a drink, not company. That's what his party was there for and luckily it was what the music was there for too, because with the next set of tapping of the conductor's baton against the music stand, Noah had pulled Quinn up from their table and lead her onto the dance floor, leading the waltz as everyone froze.

The orchestra set sail as the heavily string based melody, topped with flickers of the wavering flute and the plucks of the double bass had both Noah and Quinn dancing through each motionless couple, their steps weaving in and out through everyone. They acted as an instigator to a game of dominoes, as if each couple they passed would thaw out of a frozen state to join the music, one by one, until with a whole round of the vast dance floor, everyone was waltzing to the beautiful score that was dynamically reflecting off the walls of the well acoustic accommodating hall, the note of every instrumental made wide and clear. Though no amount of Johann Strauss II's, Dmitri Shostakovich's or Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's greatest works could distract Noah's eyes from his true focus. The beautiful model dancing with someone else. Someone who wasn't him.

As this variation upon the waltz called upon the switching of partner's mid-dance before returning to the person one had begun the waltz with, everyone began landing themselves with someone new. People would find themselves holding someone else in the space of ten seconds. They'd be leading a new partner around the floor in the next set and as Noah lifted Quinn high up into the air, with a blink of an eye and the sudden flash of the chandelier's crystal from above, the body he was setting down was not of his blonde fiancée, no, but of a brunet boy looking back at him with shock, his blue eyes wide as they held each other, motionless, in the center of the floor. Kurt was in his arms. He wasn't in anyone else's but his, and as result, he couldn't help the spread of power, dominance but above all pleasure that surged through him because of it.

He didn't waste any more time. As if the lights in the ballroom had dimmed in favor of a single spotlight to shine upon them and only them, as if everyone had disappeared into a black out leaving behind only their sole figures to continue the long lost dance, Noah began writing the musical language that was dance with Kurt. There was something beautiful about watching a single dancer alone onstage, just like when Kurt had first performed at the spectacle, but for Noah, solos seemed always connected to a form of loneliness. When people were together, there was a union, and it could be tense, it could be romantic, dramatic and cold, but it was about how they related and how they looked into the mirror, which was another person. There was a mirror in between him and Kurt, and he wasn't going to break it.

As for Kurt, nothing was on his mind other than how he was being expertly led across the spacious dance floor, Noah's supportive grip on him, guiding him through each couple as everything came alive once again. However, everyone was not how they had been before. It seemed as though Noah and Kurt had lost track of their surroundings and weren't paying attention to anyone or anything around them because as the music demanded more from them, so increased the constant switching of partners.

Though the two weren't switching. They weren't separating from each other. They stayed and remained together as the waltz around them began to break up and deteriorate around them due to the lack of their involvement in anyone but each other, and as Quinn stumbled off to the sidelines, watching with increasing horror as her fiancé and the model, danced their way without a care in the world in the wake of everyone else finding themselves being rudely shunned off the floor, her breathing labored.

Noah was her partner, not Kurt's. He was her future husband, not Kurt's. In fact, Kurt had no right dancing with Noah at all. What they were doing was absolutely inappropriate and it seemed she wasn't the only one who thought it. All around people were observing the dancing duo with scathing glances, criticizing whispers and shaking heads as if both of them were breaking the rules of the Balencia. As if, they were single handedly going out of their way to break customs that had been with the ball for many years. Quinn just didn't know why Noah would do this to her. He was publicly making love to Kurt through dance and there she was, winding her way through throngs of onlookers to try and catch up to them both, tears welling in her eyes as the couple seemed completely oblivious to her pain, her humiliation and everyone else around them.

However, she was correct in thinking that both Noah and Kurt were too far out of it to be retrieved. The model's attentions were solely focused on the striking man in front of him, whose gentle yet electrifying touch was sending his senses into overdrive. Their hands classically weaved themselves around each other as they spun and twirled across the floor and he didn't know what it was, but with each touch, the heat rose and with each stroke, the electricity deepened. Similarly, Noah's eyes no longer held arrogance and pride that that had flickered within them several few minutes ago. Everything had been replaced. Now something else had appeared, glinting within those chocolate orbs, a cavern of treasured secrets bursting at the seams begging someone to discover them, but who?

In any case, the man's eyes did not for second stray away from Kurt's. Even though he risked tripping or misplacing his hands in their intricate graceful dance, the boy's blue orbs were like the seductive potions that would never let him go. _Hold me tight._ As he lifted Kurt into the air, the boy's weight next to nothing in the light, Kurt placed his hands on Noah's broad shoulders, allowing further support as they spiraled together, the model's hair ruffling in the wind as they lived the waltz.  _Life me up._  Body language was something one constantly read about and in this case _,_ it was something that lead Kurt to raise his head high in response, to close his eyes in near ecstasy and allow himself to be brought back down down to the ground with Noah stroking his arms seductively as he breathed erotically onto his exposed neck, causing the boy to elicit a soft pleasurable gasp.  _Breathe on me..._

As this went on, as it all went on with everyone powerless to stop it, Quinn stood rooted by the side of the dance floor, her arms shaking and her breathing coming out in strong heaves as she finally gave up. The new found and explosive chemistry that was nothing short of explosive was impenetrable to her futile attempts to cease it. She couldn't stop something that looked so right but was yet so wrong.  _I just... never thought he'd end up being so beautiful,_  she thought, noticing Kurt's dazed look, as he looked up at her man, the boy's near white suit posing the perfect contrast with Noah's dark tuxedo. Yes, as a couple floated across the star crossed floor from heaven, a single tear rolled down Quinn's cheek, her emotions rapidly rising to the surface and as she hopelessly looked on at her fully taken fiancé, she narrowed her welling eyes.

_I hope he makes your life hell…_


	11. Creed

Staring blankly down at the tray of warm milk and pistachio chip cookies that had been placed before him, Kurt remained motionless, his body unmoving as the breeze from the open window swept through his room. It seemed as though it was the only thing in there that had any life within its soul. That and Carmen, who had nestled herself at the foot of his bed and was eying him with a worried gaze. She had been promised news of the Balencia Ball before Kurt had attended, wishing to be informed exactly who had been there, which dim-witted celebutante had made fools out themselves at their own presentation but more importantly, which man had been lucky enough to waltz Kurt into a stupor. All of these over excited questions, which had meant to be answered with nothing short of equal eagerness from the other side, were now met with a dismally low chance of being replied to, but it was just as well. Last night had only ended in a complete disaster.

"Kurt? Sweetie, are you all right? You've been looking at the food for some time now and the milk isn't getting any warmer. You've got to eat something," muttered Carmen slowly as she reached an arm out to stroke Kurt's leg, her eyes never straying from his gloom stricken face. The boy didn't want to seem ungrateful. In fact, he was glad his friend had rushed over at his time of need, whilst also not using it as an excuse to ask further prying questions. He just didn't think he could muster the energy to talk about last night, let alone eat a plate of biscuits. "Kurt, you can take as much time as you like, and I'll be here throughout, but withholding or even denying anything is just something you know won't do you any good."

"I just feel as though... as though I stumbled blindly into something without a safety harness to save me if I fell, and I did, and I brought it on myself," replied Kurt as he shifted his sight away from the tray to the window, noting that it was starting to spit rain, the little droplets staining the glass as if it now mirrored his sorrow. However as he looked back at Carmen, a frown crossing her face as she attempted to decode the poetic like answer she had just been given, he sighed. It was true about sharing secrets with others. It lessened the load or words to that extent. Yet this was no secret, but more like the spicy new crop of news in people's mouths. The complete opposite. "I just wanted to dance with someone. I just wanted a dance."

"Who did you want to dance with Kurt? Doll face, please tell me. I can't help you if you leave me in the dark," persuaded Carmen as she crawled up alongside Kurt, her eyes now grazing over his now feeble looking frame. He did not look good. His body was shivering from the open air chill or the rattling in his mind and it was consequently sending waves of vibrations into the mattress, the ripples in the milk now once again reappearing on the surface. She now felt guilty that neither her, Lola and Carlson had insisted on accompanying Kurt to the ball. Granted they weren't that much older than he was and he himself was a lot more passive and calm when it came to celebrity events, but at least they knew New York. Kurt didn't. "Sweetie, why don't yo-"

"It started off so well. Noah picked me up, we arrived in good time, and I got to see everything first hand. The ballroom, the presentations, I even got to meet some his close friends, it was all great," explained Kurt as a sudden need to expose everything that had happened the previous night, all the anxiety he had suffered, but now all the sudden rage and frustration he was feeling for it all, came to him. He had been taken advantage off. He had just been blindly naive to realize it. "But in the end everyone began dancing, and I didn't want to be alone. So I met a cute guy by the bar, he asked me to dance, I said yes, and we starting waltzing, but... before I know it, I'm not being lead by him anymore, but by Noah."

"Noah? How did you land yourself with Puckerm-"

"It was one of those waltzes where you're always switching partners along the way. Yet when I landed with him, we stayed together for the remainder of the dance, which threw the whole thing off and ruined it for everyone but... I just couldn't stop myself," choked Kurt as he made a bee line for the milk, gulping down most of its contents before coughing at the rate he'd drank it. Patting his back soothingly, Carmen begged him to continue. "It was too late by the time I saw Quinn crying by the sidelines and when Noah did, he pushed me away so hard I fell to the ground, and everyone saw. Everyone was glaring at me, even the musicians and the waiters and the next thing I knew I was running out of the hotel and never looking back."

"Wow, I... um... At first, it sounded like a joke Puckerman would do. Like some prank or something, but now I'm guessing it wasn't," replied Carmen quietly, Kurt scoffing at her words as he picked up a cookie, broke it in two before shoving a piece in his mouth. No care was given to the amount of crumbs landing on the sheets, neither was there any effort in reducing the chewing sounds from within the boy's mouth. It seemed as though the fire was finally stoking within Kurt, and it was red, hot and angry to the core. "Kurt it wasn't your fault. Noah shouldn't have done what he did. It was wrong of him and it was wrong to Quinn. I mean I don't know what his true intentions were, but from the sounds of it, they weren't honorable."

"But see, that's just it. I don't think he was purposefully going out of his way to harm anyone, and I don't think he was doing it for laughs either," reasoned Kurt, popping in the second half of the biscuit into his mouth before offering the plate to Carmen. Accepting one politely, the red headed girl began picking at it, watching Kurt intently as he now delved deeper into the analytical side of Noah's actions. "I mean I know he's turned out to be this rather sensitive yet slightly psychologically damaged man who's just, I don't know, craving someone who's sympathetic and impartial enough to talk to, and I suppose that's why he's latched on to me because I don't know any better, but it doesn't make sense. None of it does."

"Kurt, we could analyze what happened last night for years and never know know what it meant, and it most likely won't matter how many litigation classes you take," replied Carmen as she finished off her cookie before brushing the crumbs from her legs. She'd seen, especially when it came to relationships, and especially in women, people attempt guesswork at how their partners would disappoint them. It never lead anywhere and it only served for them to ponder for hours on end, something Kurt didn't deserve to be wasting his time on. "He's the only one who holds the answer but I don't think you're going to want to talk to him now are you? Not when the only thing you want to do him is punch him."

"Oh Noah… why did you have to complicate matters? Why must there be people out there whose only intent is to further unrest the minds of the content?" moaned Kurt, his hands stretching themselves into claws as his teeth clenched in frustration. It's true what Carmen had said. He wanted nothing more that to hit Noah, hard, but even thinking of doing that didn't sound like enough. He wanted to hurt him more. He couldn't even be around the man, an arrogant prick who was toxic to the core. "Ergh, I can't be bothered to obsess anymore about this. I bet Noah isn't. You see, to many, he's the prince who did no wrong, whilst I was the black hooded seducer who-"

Ring! Both Kurt and Carmen turned their heads warily to look at the model's iPhone, which was now ringing softly on the end table at the head of the bed. Kurt didn't have any sneaky suspicions of who it was but he didn't feel like answering it either. Ever since he'd woken up this morning, his throat had felt like it had constricted to the point where even talking was a chore. A weak voice and a light cough would not do as a greeting but then, it could be someone important. Who knew? Huffing a sigh as he leaned over to his phone, Kurt didn't even bother checking the caller ID before he answered tiredly, only realizing at the last second, of the mistake he'd made.

"Hi, Kurt?... It's me. No, don't hang up, please! I need to talk to you," began the voice Kurt really didn't want to be hearing right now. Noah Puckerman. The man who had strung him alone at a time when he was at his most vulnerable and when he had just been able to earn himself the dance he had so desperately wished for. The man who had humiliated him in front of New York's high society. Though tempting as it was to hang up loudly, so loudly it would break Noah's eardrum on the other end, the pleading, almost begging tone of the voice used, was just too good to resist. Too good. He'd let him grovel like a dog in the street if he had his way. "Listen Kurt, first off, I want to say I'm sor-"

"No."

"What?"

"No!"

"No what, Kurt?!"

"No, I don't want to hear this! I don't need this right now!" shouted Kurt as Carmen rushed over to him, bringing him to a sitting position on the duvet and placing a hand on his shoulders, rubbing them, soothing him, and letting his breath even out once again. It was true about Kurt not needing this right now. It was damaging him and even though she didn't know who was on the phone and even though she didn't know what they were saying, she had an inkling. Only they could bring Kurt down to such a state. "I can't deal with any of it! I have to stay well clear of you before I find myself being chased out of this city with rocks being thrown at my back!"

"No Kurt please, will you just here me out?! Please!" whimpered Noah as Kurt looked over at Carmen with a desperate look in his eye, his lips quivering as tears threatened to fall down his cheeks like a damn ready to burst. It seemed sorrow had now replaced anger and Carmen really wanted to wrench the phone out of the boy's hand and end it all, but this wasn't her fight. She knew Kurt had always wanted, ever since he'd arrived in New York, to grow more secure in his own skin, to grow up, to grow, and for that to happen, battling Noah, was something he would have to win by himself. "Look, I don't want to have this conversation over the phone, Kurt, its not right. Meet me at my place and then we ca-"

"Excuse me?! If anything you should be coming over here, I'm not the one in the wrong!" barked Kurt as he rose himself from the bed and almost screamed so loudly the glass on his phone didn't look as if it would hold out that much longer. The model had had enough. As if he was really going to waste his time making his way over to this man. As if! He didn't want to be talking to him right here, let alone visiting him at his. Besides, Quinn was probably over there right now and she most likely had enough to say to Noah without Kurt showing up. "You have some nerve assuming I'm just going to come to you, as if I'm at your beck and call like some clubbed chump. Some gentlemen you are, or ever were!"

And with that, the line went dead.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Across the city on the Upper East Side, sat a man cradling his phone. The call that had happened a few minutes ago was still fresh on his lips and in the air around but just the way he was stroking the phone, the way his fingers played along its side as if they mourned something akin to loss spoke of an end of an unhappy kind. Noah Puckerman sat on his couch, in his penthouse, alone, with only a ringing eardrum and a guilty conscience for company. What he had done was wrong. He had no right, and if he was a good man, he would seek forgiveness and never repeat such actions. Though with an audience like Kurt Hummel, who had sounded like he'd just been recovering from both an uneasy night and sickness, such desires were hard achieve. He had predicted a reaction like this before he'd even begun dialing the number, but hope that Kurt might want to hear him out, still riled within him.

Though now, remembering flashes of the conversation, anger hadn't been the central obstacle to it all, but sadness. He didn't think his ears had deceived him, but it was as if Kurt had been on the verge of tears and that in itself was enough to further distress Noah. He couldn't feel any worse if he tried. Moaning before tossing the phone aside on the leather couch next to him, he rested his elbows on his knees and enveloped his face in his hands. For the most part, Noah hadn't been planning to dance with Kurt. The sole goal had been to scowl intensely at his partner, as if to communicate through sight that who he was dancing with belonged to him, and no one else. Though this was it. Kurt didn't belong to him, which lead onto the jealousy. The sheer jealousy. The green-eyed puppet who had manipulated him into taking Kurt as his own.

Noah had never experienced envy to such a powerful extent in his life. It had never been this strong. Not even when his mother doted more on his sister in a day than she had ever done in his life. Not even when his best friend Finn managed to escape trouble with that clumsy like nature that so many found endearing and not even back in high school, when a guy in his science class had snagged himself the hottest girl as a lab partner for the duration of a multi-week project. Nothing compared to this. It was something to think about or maybe to worry about. Dancing with Kurt, and enjoying it. Holding him around the floor and enjoying it. Leading the boy who was as was as graceful and light as a feather, and enjoying it, but it wasn't his moves that he had mostly lingered on, but Kurt himself.

Kurt. There was something about Kurt that put the word enchanted and bewitching to shame and he, powerless to stop it, was utterly captivated. However, digging deeper into it all, and removing whatever grasp Kurt's aura had on him, beneath it all, Kurt Hummel was a boy. He was male. This ought to have been the main factor driving against the jealousy, an opponent strong enough to have prevented him from acting like a complete idiot. Especially to someone like Noah, who was known for his 'many, many women', and now a beautiful blonde fiancée. What was going on? He had never been besotted with another man before, predominantly because he wasn't gay or as far as he knew, he wasn't bisexual... no, no he knew that wasn't true. Although he'd never admit it to anyone, not even to Finn or Mike, there had been past instances of risqué behavior with others.

However whether that was down to experimentation or whether that was because he genuinely enjoyed it, he didn't know. The first instance had been back in Junior High, around the same time he'd lost his virginity. He'd attended a friend's party where a game of spin the bottle had lead him sneaking into the bathroom for the remainder of the night to kiss a pretty boy whilst everyone had been sleeping soundly in their sleeping bags downstairs. That night had tasted good. The second instance had been at the start of High School, where a social gathering of keg like proportions had had him rolling around with a girl under the covers in a room upstairs, followed by her gay best friend, who reportedly hadn't initiated the contact, but hadn't rejected it either. That night had also tasted good.

Moreover, Kurt had felt good close to him, linking all the obvious signs his mind was leading him to, like it had been ever since last night. Noah Puckerman liked Kurt Hummel. He liked him liked him, not just liked him _._ There, right there, was the noteworthy crucial difference in it all. Looking back, there may have been the possibility that he'd been interested in Kurt ever since The Salvatore Spectacle, but due to confusion and denial, those thoughts had been locked away, securely fastened with the strongest padlock, and the key disposed of. Yet this was no bi-curious need. He had a crush on a boy. A real crush, though not just on any boy, the most beautiful boy in New York. Kurt was pretty, he was effeminate and he had a kind nature that turned his own dust to gold. Just Noah's type. Just the type of boy he subconsciously went for.

Quickly standing up and shaking his head rapidly from side to side, as he marked the day he'd discovered a sweet new meal on his sexuality orientation menu, a knock came from beyond the front door before in came his younger sister, Sarah. The young girl had straight yet slightly wavy, glossy hair that pooled around her shoulders, withheld similar coloring as her brother, with deep hazel eyes and toffee toned skin and a certain proud like posture that they had all inherited from their father. The backpack she wore behind her was in the shape of a teddy bear, butterscotch brown and baby blue in coloring, and a gift Noah had bought her at a Kawaii stand in Tokyo when they'd visited the city last year. Sarah's obsession at the time had been the Japanese culture of Harajuku, with its vibrant colors and manga like influences, although come to think of it, a certain model he knew would be able to pull them off even better than the girls they had had in the stores.

"Noah? Noah!" Shouted Sarah as Noah jumped and stumbled back a few paces before hitting the back of his shin on the couch, his eyes blinking furiously as his sister continued observing him with a curious gaze, though there was the hint of a amusing spark in it all, as if she had planned on sucker punching him, but in a kid's way. The little minx. "Are you alright? Your eyes looked funny, and your mouth was open... and your hand was shaking. You're not having a seizure or something. I don't want to have you fall on me with your butt crushing my back."

"No, I-I'm fine, I'm just... I wasn't expecting you to come here. I thought that mom wanted you back at hers," replied Noah as he cleared his throat and steadied his breathing, his hand coming to pat at his chest lightly as Sarah walked over to the couch and deposited her bag. She never came to visit him after school, always returning to their mother afterwards, but there would be the occasional visits, the last time where she'd come specifically for advice on how to throw a punch at a boy. "Anyway, how was school? I would ask you more specific stuff but I... don't know much about your school."

"Err, Noah? You went to the same school, but don't bother asking, its school, I know you're less than thrilled," dismissed Sarah as she plonked herself on the couch before Noah sat down next to her. Its not that the man wanted to turn a blind eye to her education, or even come across as ignorant about it, he just didn't care. Like she said, it was school. Sucker's paradise. "The workload hasn't changed, my friends are alive and the teachers are lazier than ever. Today, Ms. Evelo saw Tommy and Vicky drawing a big fat woman with a penis on the board and wrote her name on it... and she did nothing."

"I always did like Ms. Evelo..." muttered Noah with a dazed look and a grin on his face. Sarah could only pull a face of disgust. She knew very well of the things Noah had done back in High School. In fact, their mother, Emily, had spent more time in its halls listening to her son's latest round of detentions from the headmaster for trying to seduce the teacher for an overall better grade, than Noah himself. It was just one of those times where being related to such a boy didn't have such advantages. "You know she once fed me coo-lade and chips when I faked being ill. Man, she was the best."

"Speaking of coo-lade, I'm going to get myself a drink, and away from the boy who's day dreaming about old carcass," replied Sarah, still disgusted, as she leaped off the couch and headed towards the kitchen, Noah snapping back to reality as she hit him over the head on the way. Even though Sarah was only at the tender age of ten, her maturity was something to gawk at. Her intelligence was high, her sense of humor was witty but what topped it all off, was the sharp yet sarcastic little tongue she had that she had no problem using on others. Yes, there was a cheerleader in the making, and a haughty one at that. "So, how did last night go, Prince Charming?"

"The Ball?" inquired Noah as he pulled himself up from the couch and into the kitchen after his sister, Sarah hauling the SMEG fridge door open before helping herself to a cola can inside. Whisking a beer for himself, Noah closed the door and leaned against it, Sarah hopping up onto one of the island counter stools as she nodded in confirmation, her eyes now twinkling with news she desperately wanted to hear. Or maybe she already knew, and wanted to hear his side of the story. Did she know about Kurt? He'd just have to see. "It was alright. Cool crowd, sweet drinks and the music was okay... what? I said it was alright."

"Liar."

"What? I'm saying it was alrig-"

"And that's all you're saying?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say you tripped up and lodged your head in the heart shaped ice sculpture. I want you to say you accidentally stood on some debutante's dress and ripped it apart. I'd like you to even say you swung from the pillars like Tarzan before you actually smashed into one, but no, we both know that didn't happen..." replied Sarah innocently as she twirled her chocolate locks in her little finger before dunking a straw into her can and sucking at it, her eyes never straying from his. Noah froze. All that was heard was the sound of sizzling bubbles and the giant elephant in the room. "...do we, big bro?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I have nothing to say to you," shrugged Noah as he casually sipped at his beer, but before he could help or control himself, he was chugging the whole thing down with now only an empty bottle, leaving a ring on the granite surface of the counter. There he stood, a dribble of beer trailing down his chin, his fingers itching to get himself another bottle and all the while his eyes at bloodthirsty war with his sister's, as if she resembled the creepy loner girl from horror movies with telekinetic powers enough to blow your brains out. "I'm out of here, I need a walk."

"Not before I know how I came to have such a joker for a brother," laughed Sarah as she jumped from her stool to rush to her brother's side, his face completely taken aback and confused from the question as she looked back at him with awe. That was not what he had been expecting at all. He'd assumed she was going down a road he didn't want to share with her, but somehow the subject of jokes didn't seem to be all that much more promising. "I mean when I heard you pulled that massive prank on Quinn and everyone with some male model I thought, oh my God, this is big, this is huge, this is like aweso-"

"What?!" Barked Noah as he swiveled around so quickly his arm nearly served to hit Sarah right around the face. It was just as well. She wouldn't have survived. He hadn't read the day's morning papers. Primarily because he'd feared what they had on them but to hear from his own sister that what he'd done to Kurt had been a prank. It was enough to chainsaw a journalist. What if Kurt had heard about this? What if he was upset enough to believe it. Had that been the reason behind his blubbering? Oh, shit had really hit the fan now. "You think that was a prank?! Is that what everyone is saying it was?! A fucking joke?!"

"Yes... Tamzin brought in US Weekly today at school and it had in there saying you planned the whole thing with your model friend... before hand... please don't kill me, No-No," cowered Sarah as she stumbled backwards in the wake of her brother's sudden outburst. Her demeanor of courage had gone, the influencing twinkle in her eyes vanished and now she was faced with Noah in a state of fury she had never seen before. It was enough to make her scream for the hills or even burst out crying but she stood her ground, ready to face the onslaught. "I saw the pictures inside and no one was laughing an-"

"Of course no one laughed, it wasn't a joke!" Roared Noah as he threw his arms up in the air, pacing the large kitchen as Sarah retreated to the sidelines. Of course she was aware of the media's take on anything Puckerman, but if this wasn't some prank, what was it? "I didn't mean to dance with Kurt, but in the end I did! It just happened! I don't know how! I just wanted him away from that douche bag he was with! I mean I know Kurt was having a good time with him but he doesn't know who he wants! He didn't know what he was doing! That guy was calling the shots and Kurt was just along for the ride!"

"But... you used to do that all the time with the girls you dat-"

"No, that was for a different ride, believe me," snarled Noah, resting his outstretched arms on the counter, his head low as Sarah's fear morphed into one of repugnance. She would have accompanied the expression with an appropriate sonic round of 'ew!', 'gross!', or 'sick', but she'd already sand papered down her brother's patience enough. She didn't want to take chances of being chucked out the window. "God, now Kurt is never going to talk to me. I've screwed it all up but now I don't stand a chance because of the assholes who wrote in your little friend's weekly magazine of bullshit! Is it so hard to believe I just wanted to dance with Kurt Hummel?!"

"Wait, so now you're saying you wanted to dance with him?" asked Sarah inquisitively, squaring her shoulders as she walked briskly back over to her unfinished cola can at the counter. She'd never met Kurt before. In fact, she'd never heard his name mentioned during conversation or in passing. He was relatively new but he was already stirring up quite a fuss in her brother's social and personal life, a life that right now wasn't making any sense. She wasn't involved in any of it, but her childlike curiosity was already brimming with questions. "What is it about this guy? There must be something, I mean, you dancing with a bo-"

"So he's a boy, so what?! What does that prove?! Just because he's got a dick in-between his legs means I have to have ulterior motives?!" But he had had ulterior motives hadn't he? Well at first anyway. Getting Kurt away from his friend had been easy, yet staying with him only paved a way to address his secondary, hidden yet primal desire and motive, to actually dance with him. "He dances like a fucking angel. No one can keep their eyes off him when he does and it would have been majorly stupid of me to not show everyone what they were missing out on! God! How thick can you people get?!"

"Well what everyone is missing out on is that you have a crush on him," countered Sarah defensively as Noah whipped his head around at her, the mixture of fear, truth and exhilaration surging in his eyes, capturing her attention furthermore. She had just hit the jackpot without even needing a confirmation from the man. Though no such thing would ever occur. Noah having feelings for a boy sounded more like a preposterous lie fabricated by an angry ex-girlfriend than a statement coming out of his own mouth. The notion was something he'd deny to the day he died, yet, was it all that bad? That hard to believe? "I'm not stupid Noah. You're little 'Mathilda McBooky Brain' isn't dumb."

"Sarah... I don't lik-"

"Noah and Kurt, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Sarah, I'm warning you."

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a stranger and an invasive medical procedure, then comes the baby in a baby carria- argh!"

"That's it, you asked for it!" Boomed Noah, launching himself at Sarah as she screamed before she dodged his attack by mere inches. His sister was being too analytical for her own good and had reached such a conclusion by unknowingly playing on his pistol like emotions like a book. Though that didn't mean she could tease him for it. He made no attempt to go easy on her as he sprinted after her into the living room, the girl sliding behind one of the armchairs, both of them keeping a close eye on each other's movements as they waited for the other one to make the first move. "You are so going to get it now!"

"Now calm down Nounours," panted Sarah, circling the armchair, her hands holding onto it like a life support before a wicked smile emerged on her pink lips, the teasing glint reappearing in her eye. Faking a faint or an exaggerated stupor, she brought her hand to her forehead and sighed contently, her brother's temper blowing through the roof as she openly mocked him. "I'm sure your heart doesn't beat faster when you see him, I'm sure you don't feel the fire when you touch him, I'm sure your soul doesn't melt when he smiles at you, oh, the joy of being young and falling in love again! So precious!"

"Come back here!" Roared Noah, Sarah braking into hysterics as she pelted away from the chair, her brother circling it before he chased her down. She may have been quick witted and a tongue to match but Noah had the physical speed. This time, he made easy work of grabbing hold of her waist and hauling her up against him, her lighthearted cries of protest now softening his anger. The frustration he had been feeling earlier dimmed and the whole fucked up situation of what had happened within the last 24 hours vanished, as he held his sister, chuckling at her baby like squirms. "You're not going to get away with this, kiddo!"

"Stop! Stop tickling me! Ah, Noah! Ah! The only thing I'm trying to get away from is you!" Laughed Sarah as she tried with all her ten your old might to wrench her brother's thick fingers from her but to no avail. He was just too strong. There had always been an excuse to call him 'Action Noah', which he hadn't minded in the slightest, but with all those muscles came the power to tickle her until her sides split and she couldn't let that happen. He'd tickle her to death if he had the chance, so she'd just have to rely on herself for rescue. Here it comes. "And the only things you're trying to get away from are your true feelings!"

"Huh..." sounded Noah as immediately after Sarah had uttered the line, the tickling stopped, both of them stopped and everything she had predicted stopped, but she didn't know about the silence. There was a possibility that Noah would begin denying such a claim what with panting and heavy breathing seemed to do all the talking right now, but it was enough for Noah. If even his little sister was able to source out the truth from him, others would too. Well, soon enough. Changing his grip on Sarah before sighing into her hair, the man's hold on her changed from possessive to comforting. He needed her close. "I err... oh God..."

"Hey, Nounours, it's alright. It's okay. We all get crushes from time to time... well not me yet, but you know what I mean," assured Sarah as she turned around in his arms to face him, grabbing a hold of his Ralph Lauren shirt to bring him down to her eye line on a crouch as she rested her hands on his broad shoulders. Noah just needed someone to say that everything was going to be fine. They always did it in the movies, and it seemed to translate well to those in reality. All of this was pretty crazy. "The heart wants what the heart wants… although I think in men's cases; it's an organ a little further south from there."

"Okay, I'm monitoring what you're reading and watching for now on, young lady," chuckled Noah, throwing her an expression of mock seriousness as she fell into the amusement herself, but not before rolling her eyes breezily in true Sarah like fashion. He pulled her into a hug and enveloped her with his arms, treasuring a moment that had been so frequent when they had been younger but now so few with days gone by. It seemed Kurt's fate like gifts were getting more personal all the time, as if the model knew exactly what he was doing. "But what can I do, squirt? I like 'em sweet and beautiful, even if they are dudes."

"Some time or another, I am going to have to see what this Kurt boy looks like, but not now, I have to go," replied Sarah, disentangling herself from the hug before petting Noah's head. He chuckled as he followed her back into the living room and stood by the couch as she headed towards the door, a light bounce in her step and curls. Indeed, she was going to have to see Kurt's face because the moment she did, she'd understand. Beauty could make dignity take a flying jump and Noah, as he was, was a smitten soul. "Bye Nounours! Although it may come naturally, try to avoid any further screw-ups! And don't sleep with this one!"

"Why you!" Shouted Noah as he made to chase her down once more before her joyful bouts of laughter were muffled by the slamming door. He could still here in the circular foyer outside as she caught the private elevator, the 'ding' of the bell mixed in the city's music outside creating the perfect soundtrack for a moment like this. It was a rather impressive sonic stimulator to his thoughts and now that he was alone once again, accompanied by his sister's more than invigorating visit, he had more of an idea of what to do now. He needed to talk to Kurt. It wasn't an option. He needed to apologize profusely for shoving him aside and... shit! What if he had injured Kurt? What if he was now sporting a bruise on his hip or on his arm somewhere? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

All this guessing work was not doing him any good. Not only was apologizing common decency but also allowing this catastrophe to win could ultimately rob of Kurt and no one, or nothing, stole from him. Kurt had already been so good to him where others might have been too frightened and Noah would never, ever, forget how Kurt had nearly clawed his way back into his life after that fight in Central Park _._ If Kurt could do it, so could he, but putting it into action was another matter. Chances were Kurt would be at home, probably preparing a cauldron to boil Noah alive in, but it only brought about an option that never failed. Noah was going to spend his money responsibly and for a good cause at that. Kurt was the good cause and he was worth every single fucking Puckerman penny in his bank account. Yes, it was off to Fifth Avenue with him.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"Thank you very much. Have a nice day, sir," said the cashier as Noah thanked her for her more than useful assistance. He had been in dire need of it. After he had found himself at the foot of one of the most expensive streets in the world, fully equipped with stores of wealth and luxury that almost acted as some sort of money vacuum to the wallets and purses of the rich and fully loaded, he had been completely stumped as to what to do. Unfortunately, for him, Noah did not know squat about Kurt's taste in fashion or in fragrance or in fact, hardly anything. The conversation they'd had at Mangia had covered their pasts, presents and futures but only so much could have been crammed in a lunch before Kurt had bolted down the street, and they'd hardly had a one to one conversation at the Balencia what will the dancing, the music and oh, of course, the humiliation.

He wanted to buy Kurt something. Something nice, something that would ease an apology into the right gear, give it a calm sea to sail smoothly on, but it didn't matter how much he had or was willing to spend, it was all useless at this point. He'd wondered aimlessly through the streets, window-shopping at the products they had in there, but he never went in. Shopping at all these designer stores just wasn't his scene, a scene that had soon morphed itself into Madison Avenue at 67th Street. He'd walked all that way, looking like a clueless idiot with nothing to guide him but the pavement, and it was only when the rumble of a certain stomach indicated that he hadn't had breakfast and that lunchtime could not come any quicker that he came upon the Creed Boutique, the niche perfume house.

This was the last straw. Either he'd buy something here and give a purpose to all this wondering around or he'd go home empty handed with nothing to show for anything. Luckily, for him, Creed was one of the few perfumeries he'd heard of. Some of the girls he'd dated in the past, whilst rambling on about stuff he'd regrettably not been listening to, had sworn by the fragrances that the place sold. He didn't know whether they were just exaggerating or just eager fans but the minute he'd sampled some its scents, he knew they were onto something. The house purportedly created its perfumes in-house by two perfumers: a father and his son, and what they had concocted on the range of lightly lit shelves lining the walls were so much more natural and with it, than the designer junk they sold in Bloomingdales.

The atmosphere was quiet, the air actually smelt clean and the assistance he'd received from the consultant, who knew a confused face on a man any day, had been commendable. They had let him in on everything he had needed to know for an 'apology gift', as he had named it, and after half an hour of testing, had finally narrowed it down to a fragrance entitled: 'Sublime Vanille', a luxurious scent based on the flowers and fruit of the vanilla orchid, used from oils sourced from the Comores Islands. Bingo. He'd found it. He'd found Kurt in a bottle, a beautiful fluted flacon of transparent clear glass with a flower-shaped octagonal stopper, embossed with Creed's distinctive ostrich plume logo. It envisioned Kurt to a tee with softness, sweetness, and a shimmer quite irresistible that evoked the languorous sensuality of a tropical evening under the stars.

Yes, his afternoon looked like it had the prospect of ending successfully and as he waved goodbye, but not before leaving the cashier a tip for their help, he left Creed. Or he would have when Kurt, the very boy he had wronged the night before and the boy he had been thinking about all day, walked right on past with a red headed friend just as he was about to open the door to leave, their attentions completely distracted and focused on one another. Noah didn't know what to do. This was not part of the plan. The plan was to return home, write his apology speech, learn it, practice it to the nth degree and then approach Kurt, not dive bomb straight into it. That was just a mission built up to fail and no way was he failing a second time. The first had been quite enough.

"Kurt!" Cried out Noah suddenly, wincing as the boy turned around followed by his friend, followed by the Abercombie & Fitch bag he was carrying in his hand. What the fuck was he doing? What the actual fuck? He'd just said to himself he would just tiptoe away but now, the words had been that desperate to leave his mouth... oh great! That's fucking great! Now his feet were walking their way closer to the surprised yet glaring duo as Kurt flicked his eyes from side to side before hiding his face with his sepia tinted bag, his pretty features covered by a surfer's washboard abs.  _I've got better_. "One word Kurt: Lollipop."

"Uh, right... um... oh, Carmen Noah, Noah Carmen," replied Kurt, lowering his bag form his face as he warily and without any enthusiasm in his voice what so ever, introduced Noah to his friend who briefly nodded her head at him but otherwise settled herself happily with a glare in his direction. However, the fact that she knew what had happened didn't bother him, but Kurt. He thankfully didn't look homicidal or worse, suicidal, but it wasn't much better. The boy looked exhausted. "Well this has been sufficiently awkward. Thanks Noah for jumping out at us from the bushes with your zest for life and your... Creed bag?"

"Oh, yeah, I um... bought some things from there... just now... you know... for you," admitted Noah as Kurt blinked before looking at him in confusion. Something about this was coming across as seriously wrong. Carmen was looking at him, the bag and then at Kurt as if she too was trying to work this all out, until the frown on the boy's pale face burst into anger. "Oh shit, no, Kurt, no I'm not trying to buy your forgiveness or anything, I would never do that. It's just... I mean... I wanted to get you something. You didn't deserve what happened to you but hopefully, you'll approve of what you do deserve... this."

"You bought me... oh my God, Noah, this must have cost you a fortune," replied Kurt in disbelief as Noah handed him the bag, the boy handing his own to Carmen, as he peered inside the small, his mouth letting out a gasp as in it he saw a 250 milliliter flacon of $640 perfume, alongside Bath, Shower gel and Body lotions of the same fragrance costing $85 and $95 respectively. Kurt had never been gifted such beautiful things in his life and he was attempted to pop them all open and smell their luxury scents until the sun went down, but he didn't. He pulled his face together and rewarded Noah's efforts with a smile. This time, with enthusiasm. "Thank you Noah. This is very thoughtful of you... and your bankrupt wallet."

"No problem Kurt. I just hope you like it," chuckled Noah, shuffling his feet as he returned Kurt's gaze with equal intensity. At this point in time, a moment would have bloomed but due to company, not such thing happened, except something was born as Kurt's anger deteriorated. The warmth in Noah's eyes was as fresh as steaming cocoa on a winter's day and Kurt's baby blues were drawn. "This is by no means the whole apology, Kurt. This is merely... the starter, the prologue, intro, whatever you want it to be. I just thought you needed something pretty before I power on through with something that's due. Soon, Kurt."

And with that Noah turned around with a parting smile, leaving the invisible current that had prevented Kurt's eyes and his from straying from each other's gazes, to float in the air outside the perfumery. It had been a matter of not being able to look away but with a clearing of a throat, reality had found them. Who knew how long they would have stayed there but that wasn't really the point. Kurt now knew that Noah had been thinking about what had happened. He had felt guilty, and he had prepared a two-episode apology to go with it. The first one had cost him a total $820, a staggering price for an apology gift, but yet what was yet to be answered was something money just couldn't buy, let alone touch. Noah was going to apologize, and this time, Kurt was going to listen.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

As Noah entered his building, before ascending the elevator into his penthouse apartment, he fell onto his couch, his face crushed against the leather. He was officially beat. The afternoon was closing with the setting sun and so were his eyes if he was to allow them to follow suit. After gifting Kurt with his present, he'd returned to Mangia for lunch. He didn't know why he'd gone but now the place seemed to signify something that hadn't been there before. Maybe it was down to opinion or even classification but Mangia had been the setting, whether Kurt knew it or not, as their first official lunch date, or even date. It had been Noah's first date with a boy and the first actual date of the kind that hadn't involved a club, drinks and a leather couch. It had been casual, New York style and ever so delicious.

He'd then taken it upon himself to stroll alone through Central Park, the exact route they had taken that day and as if by magic, the golden apology which he had struggled until now to form, came to him as easily as leaves fluttering down from the trees around him, their now auburn like shades now the exact color of the sun's orange rays as it basked his living room in a wave of light. Thanks to his two story windows that granted 'the' view of the city, Noah was able to twist his head and watch as the New York landscape seemed to wave goodbye yet again to the day. It allowed is thoughts to take hold once more. He was intensely grateful to Kurt for not ignoring him today at Creed. He could have run away, he could have shouted, exploded in anger even, but he hadn't. He'd remained calm and dignified. Perfect behavior for no other.

Yes, Kurt had risen up against Noah's expectations by not calling the whole world in on their situation to embarrass and humiliate him. For that would have been one satisfying payback tactic, but what had happened earlier today had caused Noah to realize how much he treasured Kurt's friendship. If Kurt had slashed all contact with him, he didn't know what he might have done. Most likely kidnapped him and kept him under house arrest in his penthouse. In any case, it was a hypothesis he wasn't willing to give much thought to. Kurt had marveled at his present like a beggar just been given food, and after he'd thanked him, they'd once again locked eyes with each other. That, right there, had been the perfect thank you.

Heaving himself up from the couch and making his way into the kitchen, Noah placed Sarah's cola can that she'd left behind in the recycling bin and went to pull out a frosty bear from his fridge's depths. The warmth that pooled into him as he gulped it down was much welcomed and served to rinse out the troubles of the door with only a single sip yet as he made to reward himself yet again with another drink, his eyes fell on a rose colored note attached to the note-board on the wall next to him. It was from Quinn. He would be able to associate that color with anything to do with the blonde and as thoughts of her now filled his mind, he sighed, resting his head on the fridge door. Ever since his little 'joke' with Kurt, he'd been on the receiving end of a silent treatment with not a single acknowledgment of his existence coming from her.

In fact this note, which was nothing more than a brief way of letting him know that she was out of town to see her folks for two weeks, was the closest thing she'd come to even communicating with him, but it was just as well. At the end of the scribbled note she'd ended it Q, and only, Q. Despite Noah being her fiancé and despite them having known each other for some time, she'd ended it as if he'd been a simple friend, a simple nickname for a simple friend. Neither had she ended it with any x's or o's. Quinn would always end her texts, casual notes or letters to her friends and family with the classic hug and kiss, always, and it only meant that you were in her bad graces if you received one without. This didn't look good, though one thing still bugged him. All of this jealousy, all of this possessiveness as if she cared about him. Where had it all come from?

The thought of Quinn developing feelings for him was puzzling. She'd never cared about his indiscretions with women for the past month that they'd been engaged. As if they didn't par up to her standards. Yet now that Kurt had appeared, it was as if she felt threatened. As if the fact that he was a boy created a barrier that she couldn't compete against. No longer could she turn away from it all but she had to face it one head on. Yet all of this was mere theory. It was just an excuse for Noah to fantasize about two babes fighting over him, as most men did, though in his case, there was a male model intertwined in it all. Sighing as he grabbed the note and hurled it in the trash, Noah deposited his empty beer bottle in the sink and returned to the living room where the light was now drastically fading to the point where only flecks of it now scattered themselves around his room.

As he stared out of his window, Noah knew that somewhere down there amongst the many, many buildings was Kurt, hopefully not throwing his gift away but bathing in it and as Noah kicked of his shoes and lifted his gaze to the gorgeous fading skies, he couldn't help but picture his crush's face perfectly emblazoned in the angelic depths of the heavens. Kurt really was a boy of beauty and he was worth someone Quinn getting jealous over, more over than all the others but as his thoughts once again reverted to the blonde's new attitude that sent questions flying, a knock was heard from beyond the door. Blinking, Noah turned to frown at it as it continued. This was odd. No one had announced themselves downstairs and all his family members had cards so obviously this was either a lost idiot or spy or... someone hiding their face behind an Abercrombie and Fitch bag.

"Who... who is that? Who are you?" asked Noah as he now found himself at the entrance with his door wide open with only a figure with abs for a face and with a smell that very closely resembled fine vanilla, luscious Tonka bean and a bracing dab of Calabrian lemon. Only the scent had seemed to blend into the skin of the figure and evolve into a richer variation of the original, nearly toppling Noah over with its soft oriental notes. This was just too good to be true and, as he hoped, it was, because as the bag was lowered to reveal the boy who was no longer running from him, no longer ignoring him but now coming to him with his cherub beauty and aura knocking, Noah's eyes widened.

"Kurt?"


	12. The Puckerman Penthouse

The sun was no more by the time Kurt came to stand in front the biggest set of windows he'd ever seen in a penthouse as he stared out on the midnight black tinted city. In fact, this was the first penthouse he'd ever set foot in, and to think it belonged to Noah Puckerman. It was a privilege indeed but he wasn't about jump about like an overexcited seal because of it. He was going to admire the place for what it was: large, modern and luxurious. The front door had led onto the living room where in it contained an electric fireplace, all typical living room amenities upholstered in either leather or linen and scattered in a sparse and minimalistic fashion where several impressive works of art that brought about color to the otherwise shaded color scheme. Everything was modern, everything was up to date and everything was worth taking in.

No wonder places like this were so expensive, even more expensive than those in Los Angeles or Miami. With features and a stunning view that Kurt bet was nothing but magnificent during the day hours, this place was next to priceless. When he'd actually arrived, Noah had been so taken aback with his sudden appearance that the boy had had to round him to enter, and despite him abandoning his position before the threshold of the door, Noah had remained planted there with somewhat of a goofy grin stretching across his face. It was cute and Kurt didn't need much else in non-verbal action to know that he was welcome, despite the barging in. In truth, he too found it surprising that after returning to his own apartment several hours ago and bathing in Creed's vanilla, the desire to see Noah had almost rung like a command, and so he had done.

"Wow... you really know when to dish the dough wisely Noah. First this place and now Creed. You've got taste," complimented Kurt as he continued to look out of the window, the reflection of Noah's approaching figure in the corner of his eye. Stopping a few meters away, the man joined in and took in the sight before him. It was true that whenever he needed to relax or calm down, he'd simply look out the window, but it was the figure by that same window that was now diverting his attention. In his eyes, Kurt was going to be a scene stealer in front of any setting no matter what. "It's really dazzling."

"It is, isn't it?" agreed Noah as they both took in the sea of glittering lights that was the Upper East Side including as much of the rest of New York as the eye could see or make out. Kurt could only hope that he himself would be able to afford such a place in the future and live in an expensive apartment since everything when it came to real estate here was about the view. Noah was lucky, though Kurt didn't know that he was the man's center of attention as his head slowly swiveled from side to side, trying to catch everything in sight like a little child. To Noah, it was ever so endearing. "A great... view."

"It was so good of you let me see it. It must be the treasure of this place, the real thing. It's beautiful," complimented Kurt again as he brought his eyes away from the view to turn around and see Noah's eyes on him, like he had felt them, instead of on the glass. It was something that would have made Kurt blush self-consciously and he would have if his eyes hadn't been stolen yet again by the man's casual attire. However as Noah noticed Kurt's eyes on him, he made to remove them. "Oh, no, you don't have to go change just for me Noah; I'm not here on an official capacity or anything. You're fine the way you are."

"Thanks. You look good too... um... come here, sit down Kurt. I think it's time I did this," replied Noah as he gently took hold of Kurt's hands and lead him over to one of the couches by the fireplace, switching the fire on in the process as the model placed his Abercrombie and Fitch bag neatly on the glass coffee table. Kurt waited patiently as Noah adjusted the temperature before the man came to kneel on one knee before him, the low position causing Kurt to frown as he shifted in his seat, Noah taking his hands in his as he began. Was he really going to beg for forgiveness?

"Kurt, first of all I want to apologize for last night," began Noah as he stared deeply into Kurt's eyes. "I didn't think and now both of us are paying for the consequences I myself made happen. Believe me, embarrassing, humiliating and ruining an event that important to you was not planned and I am a bad person for inflicting such pain, but Kurt like you said to me back in the park, please don't forsake me for it... even though at first, I didn't know what that meant. I don't want to lose you. You're a great friend and I want us to get to know each other better, but I can only hope I'm not the only one. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Why what, Kurt?"

"Why did you snatch me away from Joshua?"

"Joshua? Who's Joshu-"

"The man I was dancing with. Why did you do keep a hold of me?"

"I... well I-"

"I was safe with him! I wasn't breaking the rules. You had Quinn, I had him, everything was fine," protested Kurt as he suddenly shot up in anger, sending Noah to the floor as his back narrowly missed the glass coffee table. "Look, I know there were two of us and I know I could have broken away, but you influenced me in a crowd that made me so vulnerable. You knew how much I craved a dance yet you still took that up as your chance to turn me into your own mindless puppet, my ultimate weakness taken advantage of just because you, Noah, couldn't keep your hands to yourself!"

This was not going well. Noah's apology was backfiring, the bullets ricocheting off his walls and into him and as Kurt's tone grew colder with each spoken word, the further they penetrated, killing his heart. He didn't want to admit the truth, he was too proud. He was too scared. It had only been this morning since he'd analyzed his feelings, and it was asking too much of him to simply blurt them out. He needed time. He wasn't even sure of them himself, and even if he did declare them to Kurt, would the boy even accept an act of jealousy combined with new found attachments as a justifiable excuse? It would only support an act of improper conduct, a poor occasion to make plain his feelings at the selfish expense of his affections.

"And what kills me, is that I don't even know why you did any of it! You say it wasn't planned but it could have been just as easily done spontaneously!" Cried out Kurt as he ruthlessly stalked towards Noah, the man pathetically crawling back towards the fireplace as the model bore down on him. "You know for what's it's worth, I was going to forgive you. I was Noah, but I don't think you're telling me the whole truth. You're keeping something from me and that's now become your own problem. This whole mess is now you're own problem, one I don't want anything to do with any more. I'll see myself out."

Throwing Noah a parting glare, Kurt grabbed hold of his Abercrombie & Fitch bag and stormed his way to the door, his near stamping like footsteps deliberately rambunctious and loud but before he could reach the handle, a large hand grabbed a hold of his wrist before pulling him flat against a broad chest. Soon after and without Kurt even realizing what was happening, soft puckered lips had descended onto his, causing him to gasp, his eyes blowing wide as his bag fell to the ground from limp fingers. Noah's free hand was slithering its way around his waist whilst the other, dropped his wrist and gently placed his own behind Kurt's head, keeping him in place.

The kiss itself was romantic. Nothing but, and Kurt could tell by the way Noah expertly maneuvered his way around his lips that the man had had experience in this department. Though it was to be expected. He was Noah Puckerman. Wait a minute! He was being kissed by Noah Puckerman! He was being held by him, he was being brought closer by him and Kurt felt as though he had surrendered himself to a higher force, just like at the Balencia. There was a way about Noah that often made him hard to place, yet what was trying to seek placement in his mouth was only made too clear. Yelping in further surprise and freeing himself from Noah's grasp, Kurt hit the opposite wall, both of them panting.

"What the…" began Kurt, placing a shaking hand to hammering chest as he leaned heavily against the wall. His legs were now too weak to fully support him and as a result, he could have slid down and crumpled to the floor but the growing realization was enough to keep him upright. As he looked over at Noah, whose breath was coming out as labored pants more than ever, Kurt brought his finger to his lips and began tracing its slightly puffed and swollen shape, the spontaneous kiss's mark still evident by the slight swelling. The discovery was enough to continue his question. "What the hell just happened?"

"I'm sorry Kurt, I didn't mean to... I... damn it!" Shouted Noah in frustration, punching the wall as he noticed Kurt's expression still stricken with inquisitive horror. It was true. He hadn't meant to kiss Kurt but it seemed that once his apology had fallen through, words just weren't going to be enough. He couldn't form the necessary words to communicate to Kurt how he felt so in the midst of the storm out, a kiss had been born. It was the only thing he could do to make him stay, but now as he observed Kurt flinch at his attack on the wall, who knew if he even would. "Why don't I ever think?! Kurt, I'm-"

"Oh my God, that's why you did it? That's why you kept me to yourself isn't it? You-"

"I don't know!" Cried out Noah, fleeing from the wall into the living room as Kurt slowly peeled himself from his before slowly following from behind, his hand still placed on his mouth. Noah was exploding. He had his hands waving manically around, his voice was thunderous and he was pacing restlessly around with no intention of stopping. "I'm not sure what the fuck is going on anymore! I've never felt like this towards another guy! Sure I've fooled around with some in the past but that was like... experimentation or whatever! It was never serious, but ever since the Salvatore I can't stop thinking about you! You're in my thoughts, my dreams; it's fucking freaking me out! _"_

"I'm sorry if I unintentionally turned you on but that's not my problem!" Retorted Kurt loudly, storming his way towards Noah as he defended himself against nothing but a man's internal crisis, a battle of his confused feelings and a threatening take on his manhood. He was already angry at Noah for one thing and he really didn't have the patience for that same man to take his insecurities out on him. "Stop involving me in all your crap Noah! I don't want in, I want out, but I apologize if I've tainted your perfect little rich life so dreadfully! I didn't mean to cause such internal struggle, but maybe you'll be able to control your feelings next time before you go hurting the apparently revolting object of your affections!"

Slap! Noah stumbled back, nursing his cheek, his skin searing under his touch as Kurt had raised his hand and viciously slapped him around the face with an echoing crack, a near blood red hand shaped print appearing on his bronzed cheek. As his expression morphed from shock to pain, he looked back at Kurt, whose usually light colored eyes were dark with fury. He had deserved it. It's like he couldn't stop dragging Kurt down along with him with all his shit, and as a single tear escaped Kurt's eyes, weakening them as his lip quivered, Noah's soul cried out in grief at the further destruction he'd carelessly caused, until with a set of new words, it died. "Noah, I don't want to  _ever_  speak to you again!"

"Kurt... no... please! Kurt stop!" Pleaded Noah desperately, Kurt swiveling on his heel as he wiped his tear away on his sleeve before storming his way back towards the door. This time he would leave for good. Nothing would stop him. Not even a kiss, not even Noah's heart wrenchingly pleading cries for him to stay would persuade him to listen to another round of problems the man had because of him. He would no longer play victim to his consequences but as he arrived at the door, Noah caught up and rounded him, barricading and blocking the exit with his body, his face in despair. "Don't go."

"You want me to fling myself from your balcony?! You want me force myself to do that, because I will smash my skull in if it successfully gets me away from you!" Barked Kurt, brandishing a pointed finger at Noah's chest as he attempted to shove the man aside in vain. He couldn't. Noah wasn't letting him. Kurt wasn't strong enough and he didn't know any other entrance to the penthouse apart from this one. He was stuck here in his multi-million dollar home and with that thought, he began to panic. "No matter how uncomfortable you're making me you're not going to get the fuck out the way are you?!"

"Kurt, you can't leave me! You can't give up on me like... no Kurt, don't!" Begged Noah as Kurt pelted from the door and re-entered the living room, his eyes wide and his head flicking from side to side as he searched for another way out. Earlier when the boy had been by the window, Noah had found the action adorable but now, it only spelled out trouble for him. Kurt didn't know that the main door was the sole entrance that lead to the elevator and as the boy hopelessly eyed the balcony, Noah's heart plummeted. He raced up behind Kurt and wove his arms around his stomach, pulling him close as the boy struggled against him. "Kurt, don't even think about it! I'm not letting you go, I need you!"

"The fuck you do! You've made me out to be a life ruiner! A boy, who by no fault of his own, should be blamed just because Mr. Womanizer here now likes penis as well as pussy!" Retaliated Kurt as he made a desperate attempt to escape Noah's grasp before finally twisting in his arms and facing him, their faces now near inches apart as Kurt continued seething in the wake of Noah's upset features. He was even more trapped than he had been before but this time, there was no escape. "Unhand me now, King Kong! I will not tolerate being some colossal ape's plaything! Get some other Ann Darrow!"

"Kurt, will you just-"

"Help! Somebody please help me! I'm being held captive against my wi-" cried out Kurt but as he attempted to continue his screams for help, his shouts was silenced as Noah's hand came down over his mouth. Kurt shook his head violently from side to side, his hands coming to remove Noah's but with a final huff of exasperation, the man lifted him onto his shoulder and made his way back over to the couch, kicking and screaming, his fists pounding on Noah's back. "You know I could easily scream rape! With a high-pitched voice like mine, anyone could mistake it for a woman's! Want to se-"

"Kurt! For fuck's sake just listen to what I have to say!" Barked Noah, Kurt's silenced protests increasing in volume as he tried desperately to remove Noah's hand to no avail. There was no fighting with this man. He'd never be allowed to leave unless he played by Noah's rules and whilst the idea of listening to more of the man's bullshit pleas was enough to risk another chance at the door, he relented. However as Noah removed his hand from Kurt's mouth, he quickly replaced it as the boy took in a breath for another plea of his own. "You want my hand to stay clamped to your mouth because it's staying there unless you promise not to shout anymore!"

"Say what you have to say then," sighed Kurt, Noah tentatively removing his hand from his mouth, scanning his face suspiciously as he once again knelt before where he'd sat Kurt down on the couch. He took the boy's hand in his but this time; both of them looked down at the touch. Kurt had always known both of them to have skin tones the opposite side of the spectrum, which made the contrast all the more striking when they were placed next to each other. It was something to appreciate and awe at and as Noah smiled down at their hands, he noticed Kurt's begin to subtly shake. "Noah... I'm sorry."

"No... no, no Kurt I'm-"

"I'm sorry for what happened at the ball, I'm sorry that I've now somewhat converted you and ruined your life, I'm... oh God... Noah, I don't like hurting people, but I have," choked Kurt, his interested expression from before fading rapidly as his emotions flowed to the surface, an inevitable sob escaping from his now welling eyes. However as his small whimpers descended into a cascade or tears, Noah looked on and knew that never in his life had he ever come across anyone so beautiful, even when crying. He pulled Kurt into a warm hug, rubbing his hands against his back as Kurt sobbed into his shoulder. "I feel so stupid... I'm sorry."

"Shhh, Kurt you have nothing to be sorry about. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay," soothed Noah as he continued to rub small circles on Kurt's back, the circular motion helping to ease the tenseness in his muscles, loosening him up Kurt rested all his weight against him. "Hey here, Kurt look at me. You've changed my life, sure, but you haven't ruined it. Knowing you has been like a road to self-discovery or something. Sharing deep stuff with you has done me good and I've found in you what I can't find in others, just... please don't take that from me."

"Noah, I too shall be better for having known you, and I'm glad you chose me over some shrink," giggled Kurt quietly as he looked intently back at Noah, the man smiling in return. The boy still firmly believed that Noah had to seek what he'd found in him in others, like his family, his friends, Quinn. The man couldn't rely on Kurt alone, could he? Kurt wasn't Noah's responsibility but Noah's himself. "Don't worry though; I don't intend to take anything away from you. I'm not going to suddenly disappear, never to be seen again. We're still friends, and we'll still see each other. I still want to get to know you after all."

"Oh thank you Kurt, thanks so much," replied Noah in great relief, gently wiping Kurt's tears from his cheeks with his thumb before pulling him for another hug, his hands enveloping the boy with so much warmth, it rivaled the heat emanating from the fireplace. Kurt, in return, could only crack a bright smile as he brought his arms around the man's neck, his head now lolling on his shoulder, eyes drooping as they observed the fire. He was so very tired. The day had been eventful to say the least but at least everything was settled. "I want us to be close Kurt, I mean I want us... I... Kurt... do you like me?"

"What? Well... of course Noah I lik-"

"Do you  _like_  me Kurt?" Persisted Noah, as Kurt pulled himself away from the hug in order to fix the man with a frown, though Noah still kept his hands around him, keeping their distances close. Now that they were done with the apologies, they were back to this? To be honest, Kurt hadn't had time to process this new development over the drama from earlier, but now that things had simmered down, he was able to think more clearly. Noah was attracted to him. He didn't even know he was anything less than heterosexual but he guessed this is what he had meant by 'deep stuff'. "Kurt? Are you... attracted to me?

"Well I..." began Kurt, his mouth gaping as his brain struggled to conjure up words for him to say. He didn't know what to say, and he hated being put on the spot, but this seemed like a big deal to Noah, what with the man looking intently back at him, his eyes brimming with hope. "Noah, I've only known you for a month and I really haven't been thinking of you sexually. What with moving here, my work experience and the modeling I haven't had time to think of anyone in that way. You remember? When I told you this in Mangia? It's just been a blur. Don't get me wrong, I do find you handsome, but I-"

"Handsome? You think I'm handsome Kurt?" Inquired Noah, his crest fallen face that had appeared during Kurt's answer, rising back into place as he smirked at the way the boy rolled his eyes, as if the answer was plainly obvious. To Kurt, Noah was handsome, a fine young man. His shirt was unbuttoned and open, exposing a sculpted chest underneath and his sleeves were rolled up, once again showing off those drool worthy arms, but outer image aside, Noah was charming, boyish and tender, three attributes that Kurt did find attractive. "But... does this mean you only see me platonically?"

"Well... okay I lied. Noah, I haven't been seeing you as a mere friend all the time," replied Kurt as Noah's head shot up to meet his gaze. The man's heart had dropped at the realization that the one person he desired, the one person he wished to share sweet man kisses with didn't see him in the way he wanted to be seen, but now, it was racing. "I mean I'm telling you the truth when I originally didn't think of you that way, but there was this one time when I felt something more. I didn't act upon it because it wasn't worth mentioning, and because it would only make things awkward between us, so I left it."

"Tell me Kurt, please. When was this?"

"It was when you invited me to the ball after Mangia. You wanted me to go so badly that I couldn't help but feel something," began Kurt, Noah pressing himself closer to him, his chest brushing his closed knees as Kurt noticed the glimmer of anticipation in Noah's hazel eyes. As if what was being said now would determine something exceedingly important. "And ironically I felt it again when we were dancing last night. What we were doing was bad, but it felt so good. Then today, what with the Creed fragrance, the apology and you here now saying you like me, I can't stop feeling it."

"So... does that mean you do like me? Is that what you're saying, Kurt?" Asked Noah anxiously, Kurt hesitating before he went in with an answer. Did he have a crush on Noah? Was what he was feeling strong enough to be classified as that? Possibly. Noah's chest fell, fearing a possible rejection yet again. "I'm like you Kurt; I don't know where these feelings came from. Fuck, we've only known each other for a few weeks and I never thought to date a guy before, but I know I feel good when you're near me, and if it feels good, then that's good enough for me. Only question is, is it for you?

"Well I-"

"I want to be with you Kurt. I want us to give it go, give us a chance," continued Noah, taking hold of Kurt's hands once again in his and staring deeply into those baby blue eyes. Who knew if the boy would still act upon his feelings, now that they had been mutually returned, but certain things were just worth fighting for. "But... it's up to you. It's okay if you don't want to enter into anything with me. I know I have Quinn and you have that... Josh guy or whatever, but I want to see if there's anything there. I want us together. I mean if you're not put off by a... man-whore who's slept wit-"

Kiss. Noah's words were cut off by a pair of full soft lips that landed on his with a soft thud, its cushioned landing proving to initiate a kiss bursting with sweetness. Placing a finger under Noah's chin, Kurt tilted it upwards for a better access before withdrawing, his eyes twinkling. "Please don't degrade yourself like that Noah. You may be far from a virgin and you may have popped the cherries of countless girls, but you must realize that your most precious possession is time, and you've far too much unfinished making out work with me to spend even a minute talking about anyone else you've bedded."

Noah's lips were still puckered from Kurt's spontaneous kiss and only broke shape from the stuttered breath he let out at the realization of it all. Kurt had said yes. He was willing to give them a shot and as Kurt giggled at the face he pulled at the thought, Noah sprung up and lifted the boy into his arms, kissing him with every ounce of feeling he could muster. This time, Kurt happily kissed back and allowed Noah to explore him, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Now this was a real kiss. The boy had never known how good kissing could be, what with him lacking any hugging experience, let alone kissing, but now he was finding it as one of the most pleasurable experiences ever. He was being so intimately touched, made to feel as much of Noah as possible that it all felt so, so,  _so_  good.

Meanwhile, Noah's senses had been practically wiped clean of anything except shooting electricity volts of pleasure as his body molded into Kurt's, the boy taking as much of him as Noah did of him. However, he had to note that Kurt wasn't the best of kissers. It was sloppy, clumsy and a little rushed but it was to be expected. The boy hadn't had as much practice but that at second thought was a good thing. Noah didn't like to think Kurt's lips on anyone else but on him, because Kurt had one fine pair of lips. He just didn't know how to use them yet, and so, as Noah ran the show, lowering them both onto the couch below, determined to ensure Kurt had made one of the finest decisions he'd ever made, he kissed the model. He kissed  _his_  model.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Waking up to a concoction of delicious aromas wafting in from underneath the guest bedroom door was one of the best alarms that Kurt could ever experience. Although he enjoyed getting up to his favorite tunes in the morning, this was a pleasant change, primarily because he hadn't tripped and fallen to the floor as he so often did. Maybe it was due to the fact that his mind wasn't so lightheaded with dreams as light as whipped air, but filled with flashes of him peacefully drowning in pancake batter.  _Mmm, drowning._ Gently nudging his eyes open with a little rub from the back of his hand, Kurt adjusted his waking sight to the sunlight pouring in though the veil like curtains. However, any thoughts of gorging on food of any sort were replaced with those of last night. Memories of endless streams of conversation that had lasted well into the early hours of the morning.

After both he and Noah had settled their differences, laid what had happened at the ball to rest and established a certain relationship that both were happy with, they'd gone on to spend three whole hours just talking to each other, just like they had done in Central Park and Mangia. There was nothing to it. It didn't feel strenuous, difficult or uncomfortable to communicate most things hard to revisit, like Kurt's childhood; how a combination of his mother's death from breast cancer, a torturous high school life and poor social anxiety, that had made it that much harder to approach others, had now thankfully shaped him up into an emotionally stronger and stable human being. That and discussing more intimate stages of his teens, like his relationship with Blaine, his celebrity crushes and finally, what really got his juices flowing.

Noah had in turn revealed an equal amount of personal 'shit', as he had crudely referred to it as, from his own highly protected childhood that had nearly suffocated him to an inch of his life. How he had been raised primarily not by his mother, but by his nanny, Anita. How he had never remembered ever seeing his mother except after her spin classes and before the cocktail hour where she would draw him a bath and tell him how she'd spent her day. Not only this, but the mention of Thomas Puckerman had crossed his lips. The man's infamous death hadn't been hard for him to recount, though Noah's eyes had looked like the life had been sucked right out of them as he explained it all to Kurt. His body had stiffened and only with the combination of the fire's heat and Kurt's massaging hands on his back, had had him all soft again.

Both of them had lost a parent. Whether that drew them closer or made them more understanding of each other's sorrow, Kurt didn't know, but he hoped that such a connection would not be lost, not act as something that would push them away. In any case, whilst some topics may have allowed silence to rule the air in the wake of memories best left alone, Kurt had keenly bounced up and down on the couch and inquired into Noah's undisclosed bisexuality and soft spot for sweet girls and soft boys. The heir had highly welcomed the shift in subject and had appreciated it just as well, though it hadn't prevented him from blushing profusely, Kurt being nothing but a conversational wizard when it came to prying the juicy information out of him, information that had ceased as Noah had pounced on him and kissed him deliciously for a solid hour.

Kurt's body could only hum with the memory of how Noah had kissed him. Especially his lips. In fact, they were still very much swollen by the time he'd entered the bathroom to freshen up and change, observing his reflection in the circular borderless mirror. His appearance had somewhat evolved since his arrival in New York; the fleshy parts of his face now rapidly disappearing to expose cheek bones he hadn't known he had, that in turn gave him a more mature and sophisticated look he thought complimented him. His hair was somewhat longer than it had been in high school. He'd still retained his signature side parting but apart from that, it had hardly changed. It was like the only thing he'd brought from his childhood into the game of the adults; all natural, wavy coconut brown locks of it all.

Stepping out from the shower, getting dressed and fixing a somewhat casual look that he knew suited the early hour, Kurt quietly walked out of the bathroom and down the hall until he reached the kitchen where that smell of chocolate chip waffles and raspberry honey pancakes dominated the air. However as sight rounded the corner, Kurt's eyes now had their own feast as there, sat comfortably on a stool, was Noah, reading the morning paper and somewhat formally attired, wearing a business suit and an unbuttoned shirt revealing abs Kurt just wanted to lick.  _Mother, may I..._ This wasn't fair. His senses were already overcome with food, he didn't need his hormones jumping into it all. Hot man by hot food. Hot model peeking around the kitchen wall of said hot man's hot apartment.  _Hot, hot, hot!_

"Morning baby," greeted Noah, smirking as Kurt jumped out of his hidden perch, straightened up and breezed into the kitchen, seating himself across from the man at the island counter. Kurt had never been in the kitchen before now, though it didn't disappoint in terms of architecture. The color scheme was black and white with a splash of green and he loved the 1950's SMEG fridge by the far end. It looked like the only thing in the whole apartment that hadn't come from a Sc-Fi film, but even it must have been modernized on the inside. "How are... err, where do you think you're going?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were these for someone else?" Asked Kurt innocently as he turned around and fixed Noah with lamb like eyes. As he had scoured the room's sleekness, the sight of plates topped full of what encouraged his stomach to rumble came into view. He hadn't meant to ignore Noah or cut him off mid sentence but at the moment, appetite was winning over his libido and it just couldn't be stopped, until he was. Stepping down from his stool and walking the short distance over to him, Noah chuckled at Kurt's near drooling mouth. He understood. "I didn't mean to presume."

"I can't start my day without a kiss from those sweet lips now can I, and neither, I doubt, can you."

"Sure I can, Noah. It isn't that hard. Watch me," replied Kurt playfully before extracting himself from Noah's strong arms, which had since weaved his way around his waist. However, it was all in vain. As he made to escape, he was whipped around to collide with Noah's lips head-on, both of them melting into one another's touch. Knees buckled, everything buckled nearly sending Kurt down into a cute puddle of goo on Noah's kitchen floor if it weren't for the man's supporting hold on him, a strong hand keeping him up and ever closer into the heat of that chest.

"Mmm," moaned Noah as he caressed Kurt's mouth with his tongue, massaging every smooth surface with delight. It was amazing to relive memories of last night. Talking to one another about anything and everything before rounding it all off with a great fireside make-out session, brought to the present with Kurt's hands drifting from his broad shoulders to his chest, Noah's skin tingling under those light playful fingers. However eventually withdrawing from the kiss, the thought of passing out from lack of oxygen as heavy enough indication, Kurt giggled at Noah's moan of displeasure. "Baby, get your lips back here now."

"Sorry, my lips ache for pancake. Yours were just the starter," laughed Kurt, this time successfully swiveling himself out from Noah's grip before flying towards the food stacked counter, his eyes ravenous. They had a right to be. Plates of heaven had been laid out next to three large Mangia bags which only gave heavy indication that not only did the restaurant deliver its scrumptious food right to your door, but it didn't skimp out on anything. French toast, pancakes, pastry and executive breakfasts accompanied with a thermos of Hot Chocolate and a flask of orange juice. Not bad. Not bad at all. "Yummy."

"Eat as much as you want, babe. Though not too much. I like your ass the way it is," replied Noah, leaning on the counter as Kurt scoffed lightly, returning with a plate laden with freshly baked brioche, low fat yogurt, seasonal berries and honey, accompanied with a steaming cup of tea. Noah had never been quite the chef when it came to the kitchen and neither apparently had Kurt. They didn't know a great deal about food but they could safely agree that whatever Mangia would serve before them would never be turned away. "Can't eat too much myself. I want to stay hot for you."

"That's thoughtful of you Noah, but you can still gorge yourself from time to time on the bacon and home fries," giggled Kurt, depositing of his plate on the counter as he went to squeeze Noah's arm seductively, raising himself up on tip toes to kiss the man's lips, lick his lips, soften his stubble and allow his sweet breath to caress Noah's skin. It was as if Kurt knew exactly where the man's secret erogenous zones were and how to make them run hot, red hot with lust. "I want to lick, bite and kiss every inch of your body till your senses go numb. My moans, my groans, my... oh yeah... you know you can't resist me..."

"K-kurt," stuttered Noah, gulping as his rapidly growing erection pressed itself against Kurt's thigh, building and building in length, harder and harder all the time. This boy was completely catching him off guard. For someone who had claimed to have had not a lot of sexual experiences to speak of, Kurt was proving to have quite a flirtatious attitude, one that Noah loved. He remembered the sneak preview that had came out to say hello at Mangia a week ago and the boy's power was now yet again washing over him, his sexual grip keeping a hold off him ever so tightly. "What... w-what are you doing to me?"

"Don't you know, my little sex stud? I'm seducing you... and you like it. Mmm... boy, do you like it."

"Gimme more, Kurt... I need... just give me... give..."

"Go on... say it..."

"Oh God, let me fuck you hard."

"I want you to fuck me hard...  _hard_ , Noah," murmured Kurt, as he raised his thigh to Noah's groin before starting to rub up against it in a slow tempo, slow enough to elongate each moment, hard enough to give perfect friction. It caused Noah to gasp harshly in pleasure, but also Kurt. He'd never felt the outline of a cock so large. Not that he'd ever had the chance but it was just as well. They would have all been put to shame. Noah's length must have measured at least eight inches long and as Kurt continued stimulating it, he felt its scorching heat. "I know what you want. I've got what you need but... do you have what I crave?"

"I'll give you anything the fuck you want just... don't stop," pleaded Noah, tilting his head up into the air in increasing ecstasy as he began to thrust against Kurt's thigh, increasing the speed, increasing the friction, nearing the delightful fate that would serve him the ultimate high point of his day. However, feeling the need to grab onto something for support, this time his knees almost giving way to the floor, Noah grabbed hold of Kurt and buried his face in the boy's neck, breathing heavily, so hotly on pale skin as his hips bucked for the end. "Keep doing that, keep... baby, I'm half way there..."

"And that's as far as you're getting," teased Kurt, his flirtatious nature disappearing as he removed his thigh from Noah's crotch. Sliding right out of Noah's grip, he walked on over to his stool and plonked himself before his breakfast feast as he noticed out of the corner of his eye, Noah blinking profusely, a frown forming as his mouth gaped in shock. The sudden lack of heat from another body, the lack of pent up friction, the lack of an orgasm had been like a bucket full of ice cold water landing on the man and as Noah came to his senses, he turned to Kurt, his arms still outstretched, hips still open. "Gee, that was fun."

"That was fun?! What the fuck, Kurt?! You... you just cock blocked me! Your own damn boyfriend!"

"I was doing you a favor Noah," pouted Kurt as Noah rounded the counter to tower over him, the erection in his trousers still fierce for his touch but his hazel eyes just plain fierce. This would mark the first time Noah was properly displaying anger towards him and it was admittedly frightening but with an justified explanation, all would be well, hopefully. "It's never happened to me before but staining a no doubt very expensive designer suit with man milk must be a bitch to remove. I mean you can't go to wherever you're going to with a large stain down there when we all know... it's not the typical."

"Sorry... forgive me Kurt," sighed Noah as he came up behind Kurt to wrap the boy in his arms, Kurt resting his head on his broad shoulder as he kissed his cheek in forgiveness. Noah fully agreed with Kurt on his reasoning. In the past, he'd spilt more than his fair share of dodgy juices on clothes with price tags too high to mention without tears, from Pepto Bismol on a D&G jacket to Lemon curd on a Gucci tie. All accidents had never been received well, especially since he'd had to buy them afterwards since he'd rented them out for special events. "It's just that it would have been nice to, you know... go to heaven."

"Go to heaven? Would my touch really grant you a sunbeam to paradise?" Giggled Kurt, snuggling into Noah's hold as he tore apart a piece from the brioche on his plate, brought it up to Noah's lips and fed him, the man both humming and chewing in contentment as his rubbed his cheek gently against Kurt's. It was an incredibly sweet picture, very homey, very much as if they had been together for much longer than several hours. Just what they wanted. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you Noah, I promise, but really it would have been a crime on my behalf to have not saved that handsome suit."

"Shit!" Exclaimed Noah frantically, performing a double take at the time on his watch. He was running late but as Kurt, who had been midway of serving him a spoonful of yogurt, wobbled on his stool from the commotion, the boy spilled the dairy confection down onto his pale polo top, staining it with a line of white dribble. It looked like the only person who was going to be stained in homemade yogurt was him, not Noah. Pun intended. Taking note of his own carelessness, Noah dashed out out the kitchen only to come back with a Marilyn Monroe tee shirt in his hands, his face apologetic. "Sorry about that. You can wear this."

"Thanks but... hey wait! Noah, where are you going? You haven't had breakfast yet have you?" Shouted Kurt, accepting the printed shirt, the face of Hollywood's ultimate sex symbol smiling back at him, as Noah pelted from the kitchen once again to pull on his jacket that had been resting over the back of the couch in the living room. Kurt didn't know what was going on. He had been given no run down of today's plans, or to be specific Noah's plans, considering he was on a break from modeling. He had nothing to escape chase after a man for answers. "Noah, wait up! What's the rush? Tell me what's going on."

"I got called by the company this morning to attend an emergency meeting at the tower and they get so majorly pissed off when I'm late," replied Noah hastily by the door, Kurt catching up to him as the man brought him into a heart warming farewell kiss, no time wasted as they both sank into it. Pulling away but not before gifting Kurt with an Eskimo kiss and a hug to match. "I'm sorry for doing this to you Kurt but I've really got to go. Take your time with breakfast, leave whenever you want but just don't break anything or fling yourself from my balcony if the door gets stuck or something, okay? I'll call you."

"I'll be waiting," cooed Kurt as Noah froze at the soft strum of the boy's voice, the way it lulled in the air, the way it enticed him to stay. Oh, Kurt was naughty for doing it. He knew Noah couldn't resist, but he had to. Determined to come back in a few hours to claim his little sex model, Noah pulled a pained face as he opened the door, crossed the foyer and entered the elevator, Kurt's leaning position on the door-frame wearing only briefs and a stained top proving to be one massive temptation. Though as the man disappeared behind closed doors, Kurt re-entering the penthouse as Noah left, a little surprise was in store for the boy. "Argh!"

"Who are you?!" Asked a stern voice as Kurt had turned around before jumping back in shock in the wake of a short overweight woman in her forties eying him critically near the entrance, one of her eyebrows raised. From the shaded uniform she was wearing consisting of an apron and a white cap adorning her head, Kurt had to guess she was either the maid or someone else of service, though he didn't give it much thought. He'd placed his hand over his heart in an attempt to calm down but as the woman neared him, it only beat faster in fear. She did not look happy. "What are you doing here?!"

"I'm Kurt Hummel. I'm a friend of Noah's," replied Kurt, smiling timidly as he nodded his head politely, anything to ease the woman off his back, though by the look in her eye, such gesture wasn't appreciated even in the slightest. Her posture was rigid and poised for something Kurt didn't know what, but he didn't dare think of it either. He had the distinct impression he was not wanted and the sooner he left, the better, without bare legs of course. "I'm sorry but... who are you? Noah never mentioned you. He actually didn't say you were here-"

"I'm Anita. I was Noah's childminder when he was little," replied Anita as she crossed her hands across her chest, raising her chin into the air as she continued eying him with distaste. Noah had mentioned rather little of Anita. He had rather replaced her with wild adventure like stories of when he was child and it had only been when Kurt had delved a little deeper that he'd found out that the woman had had a greater role in Noah's life than he had let on. Perhaps admitting that your mother hadn't been a mother but had left it to someone else wasn't something to boast about. "Hey! What is that you're holding?"

"Oh, um, Noah said I could borrow it. See I spilled some yogu-"

"Mr. Puckerman has no right to dispense possessions of Ms. Fabray to any of his  _guests_!" Barked Anita as she yanked the tee shirt out from Kurt's hands and brandished it in front of him accusingly, Kurt wincing as it hit him the face. Though it wasn't this that now had him slack jawed. Noah had given him something of Quinn's? Seriously? And what did this woman mean by 'guests'? "You conquests are all the same aren't you?! You think you can just waltz in here and sleep with my mistress's future husband and hope to be fed with pancakes afterwards just because you're pretty?! Not under my watch!"

"What?! I didn't sleep with Noah!"

"Come off it, I know what goes on within these walls! I mean what are we coming to?! It's an insult to decency!" Retorted Anita loudly, cornering Kurt at the door as she leered up at him menacingly. This whole confrontation from someone he had only just met a few minutes ago was totally unprecedented. Being branded as a conquest was one thing but being branded a home-wrecking whore was quite another. "Noah is a good man at heart. He is responsible, loyal and protective but the last thing he needs is give into temptation, to give into the like of you! You have a nerve flaunting yourself like a  _slut_  in society!"

"Slut?! I'm a vir-"

"Liar! Get out! Leave now and don't ever come back! You and your kind are not welcome here anymore!" Shouted Anita as she pointed to the door, allowing Kurt barely enough time to collect his Abercrombie & Fitch bag that he'd left there the previous night before sprinting out into the foyer, heart hammering as he pressed the elevator button. As if his guilt wasn't high enough, hanging on the wall next to him was a canvas photo of Quinn, dressed beautifully in a white sundress in the midst of a field of lilacs, her golden hair falling delicately around her face. The sight was just too much to bear.

"Oh God, forgive me," muttered Kurt in horror as he fled into the elevator, jumping slightly as Anita slammed the penthouse house door shut behind him. He was now the biggest hypocrite of them all. Not long ago he had disapproved of the 'sleeping around' lifestyle, heavily judging both parties involved and even though he hadn't slept with Noah, he'd kissed him, kissed the lips that belonged to someone else. Allowed himself to get roped into an evening of near adultery, become the next 'babe' Noah had buttered up for and finally tempted into a choreographed breakfast of cliché proportions.

 _Oh God,_  w _hat have I done?_


	13. Magnolia

A total of three days had passed since Kurt's banishment from Noah's apartment but it didn't matter many hours were counting since Anita, Noah's previous nanny, had chased away with a pitchfork as if he were fuckinstein, the boy was by no means feeling any better. This was just such an excellent start to his holiday. Spending his mornings lying in his bed with his pillows and covers strewn every which way, his afternoons spent in his shower washing his body until his fingers pruned and his evenings burying his nose into every novel he'd ever brought along with him with a plate of the pistachio cookies Carmen had left behind for him since his morning after the Balencia Ball. She'd suspected he'd need them in his kitchen cupboard. Though not even sweet treats or adopting the lifestyle of a loner could prevent him from recognizing his new term, a term he'd sworn he'd never become, a conquest.

Originally that was a term he'd never thought he'd reach, what with the lack of suitors lining at his door and all, but now that he'd engaged in a wild flirtation with Noah Puckerman, the man who had popularized one night stands and brought about the return of casual sex, he was now one of them, and made victim to the master. He felt ashamed. He wasn't fit to go out, he didn't think he deserved being in the company of others and he just couldn't deal with seeing anyone right now. Afraid they'd hate him for what he'd done. As a result, he hadn't left his apartment, which had now become his reclusive sanctuary, his personal hideaway where the only people who came to the door was the takeaway delivery guy and Mrs. Krakowski, his aging upstairs neighbor, coming to request if he could look after her cat while she'd go out to the shops.

No ringing his father, no texting his friends, no anything to Noah. Just him, Joyce Carol Oates, greasy Chinese and a Burmese chocolate point cat for company. All equaling one hell of a crowd, but at least it was safe. He wasn't able to enter an affair with anyone of them, even if stuffing his face full of fried food could substitute for other things, like affection. God, he should have rejected Noah's advances from the start. He should have stormed out of the man's penthouse when he'd had the chance. Near adultery had been committed. Hell, Anita was probably spraying the whole place with pesticide, the special formula for those whose only talent was to spread their legs on silk. Not that he'd slept with Noah, but they had rolled a lot on the couch. Yet another piece of expensive furniture off to be sent to the incinerator by the former nanny.

Maybe this whole thing called for a vacation. After all, to some, one of the best things about New York, was leaving it. Though the places they'd head off to were either The Hamptons or an ocean liner set sail for the Mediterranean. Yes, the idea was tempting. He would be able to return to his house, the home he grew up in with his father, and although the idea of saying hello again to cow-town shit stain Lima, at least he would be able to do nothing but eat, drink and sleep in the privacy of a place he knew well.  _Running away from your problems is a race you'll never win,_ rang a voice through his head as Kurt glared up into the air, willing it to leave him be.  _Kurt, you can't leave. It won't help, and even if you do, you know he won't be able to stay away. He'll follow you... you know this..._

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Kurt?! Doll Face, are you in?! It's your abandoned friend, Carlson! Left to starve and parch to death from lack of doll!" boomed a voice from beyond Kurt's front door as the model instantly recognized it as that belonging to Carlson Palmers, the first friend he'd ever made in the city and one of the many he'd ignored during his secluded three day streak. He liked Carlson, though that didn't mean he had to like the incessant rounds of knocking against his abused door but as Kurt heaved his way out of bed in only his pajamas, careful not to trip, they stopped. "Kurt?! Are you even i-"

"Shhh, Carlson your voice sounds like you've been running upstairs to inform everyone that the Underdog parade balloon has just escaped," hushed Kurt hurriedly as he opened his door to reveal Carlson smiling back at him apologetically, a groceries bag in his left hand. However, what was in it, Kurt didn't know. Hopefully some proper food Carlson was willing to share, anything that wasn't noodles or stir fry, the only form of calorie laden sustenance he'd had for the past few days. "Come on in, say hello to my apartment. I think it's dying to see someone apart from me in it."

"I bet it is. How are you? Is everything okay? I haven't heard from you for like... no correction, no one has heard from you for like ages. What's up?" inquired Carlson in concern, Kurt stepping aside to let him in as he closed the door behind him, leading his friend into his bedroom afterwards. Here came the questions. Hopefully, he'd only have to answer Carlson's worried queries and then the man could spread the news himself for his entire address book. Not a bad idea all things concerned. Throwing himself on his bed, Kurt brought a pillow under his head and watched as Carlson came to him. "You alright, Kurt?"

"Just asking is enough, thanks," smiled Kurt weakly, shifting as Carlson approached the foot of the bed. No one talked for a minute. Nothing was said, and even though Kurt knew his friend was thoroughly observing him, checking the condition of his appearance, the state of his apartment, everything that might have suggested that he'd been squatting like a wino in a squalid and revolting pigsty, he was glad to discover that to Carlson, the place didn't look too bad, even him. "Don't worry; I have been looking after myself. Doesn't look like it but I have. I'm just coming to terms with everything that's been going on, along with losing the energy to be completely superficial."

"Well you look really... thin. Thin and curvy, Doll Face," replied Carlson pathetically, placing the grocery bag on the bed as he came to sit on the quilt, Kurt having since shifted to the middle bed. As the model looked up at his friend with dozy eyes and as Carlson took him in, he took note that he'd never seen Kurt in such a tranquil state. On the inside, there was something definitely going on worthy of concern but it was if the boy had been shot with a tranquilizer dart, floppy, sedated and utterly relaxed. "You might have found a perfect stress solution that many New Yorkers here would pay good money for."

"Oh Carlson, I've missed you," giggled Kurt, raising himself up to bring his friend in for a hug, Carlson eagerly returning it. He'd scanned the man's face for any traces of sarcasm but had eventually given in to his awkward attempt at raising his spirits. Carlson was trying and since he didn't know what was going on, meeting him halfway and rewarding his efforts was really the only right thing to do. After all, he hadn't laughed, or even broken out a smile until now. He had something to be grateful for. "Thanks for coming, and I'm sorry I've been screening people out and everything but I... oh you are amazing!"

"I know right!" exclaimed Carlson, brandishing a box of cupcakes that he had just extracted from his bag. He didn't want for Kurt to descend back into a mood by explaining what he had done wrong. Truth is, not only was Carlson slightly uncomfortable when comforting emotionally decadent people but also, Kurt's lazy smile that he had been sending his way was just so much more appealing, especially now that it had broadened into a wide smile, showing off the boy's pearly white teeth. "I've got with me these treats, and Easy A. Let's make a day of it Doll Face, just you and me."

"Sure, I'll go freshen up. Oh, and you bought these from The Magnolia Bakery! Aww, how cute," gushed Kurt, stealing a closer look at the 'I Cupcake New York' cupcake box before opening it, revealing four red velvets and two each the classics, vanilla & chocolate cake with vanilla & chocolate buttercream. Kurt had occasionally passed the quiet street corner bakery in the West Village from time to time and from its inception, Magnolia had been cherished for its classic American baked goods, vintage decor and warm, inviting atmosphere. "They're so cute! How much were they? $50?"

"$48 for all twelve cupcakes. It's a fucking rip off if you ask me but I wanted to splurge on both of us, so I did," blushed Carlson as he nervously shifted on the bed, Kurt walking over to peck him on the cheek in thanks before bouncing off into his bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. The model's spirits were certainly on a rise. Blocking people out, especially the ones closest to him was a nasty habit he'd adopted when upset. It wasn't healthy and with Carlson now here, Kurt realized that shutting himself off from others wasn't the antidote, just an empty remedy. "I'm going to set up the movie Kurt! Oka-"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Kurt! Kurt, babe are you in?! Open up, it's me!" barked a voice from the front door and as Carlson put down the movie case and straightened up, he frowned. That voice sounded familiar. Its tone and desperate edge reminded him of someone. He had a sneaky suspicion it was Noah Puckerman, how the man had resembled a human bundle of nerves as he had requested Kurt's phone number at the Padova Pad, but wait. Babe? Who did Kurt know that would address him by such a term of endearment. The boy wasn't seeing anyone was he? He wasn't seeing... oh God. "Kurt! Please let me... who the hell are you?"

"I'm Carls-"

"Where is he? Kurt?! Where are you?!" interrupted Noah, barging past Carlson as he flattened the bewildered man against the door, leaving him no time to stop Noah as he journeyed into the apartment, shouting out Kurt's name like a siren. This was just getting stranger and stranger by the minute. Kurt had shut himself off from the world for three days, Noah Puckerman was here looking for him as if he too had been affected, where was the context behind any off this? Where was it? Maybe his predictions had been right. Maybe something had happened at the Balencia Ball, but if so, what? "Kurt! Baby!"

"Carlson, who is that screaming... Noah?!" exclaimed Kurt in shock, frozen to the spot where he had just come out of the bathroom, before coming face to face with the fretting billionaire. The only thing the boy was wearing at that moment was a set of clean briefs and socks. He'd placed his pajamas in the laundry basket and though he had thought that making a simply journey to his dresser wouldn't withhold any obstacles, he was clearly mistaken. For there Noah was, looking good as ever but looking even more anxious. "What... what are you doing here? Who let you in-"

"Oh Kurt, baby I've missed you," replied Noah, wrapping his hands around Kurt and snuggling as much of him into himself as possible. God, he missed this body. Not that he'd ever seen Kurt with so little on, which was something he wasn't complaining about, but he just enjoyed the presence of the boy pressed against him. Soft, smooth skin that was so unlike Noah's callused fingers. A petit yet firm frame with arms that had wrapped around his neck and hair that smelled of freshly opened coconuts and the Caribbean coast. Ahh, he had heaven in his arms. "God, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Noah," murmured Kurt as he rested his head on Noah's shoulder, the feeling of being touched everywhere by those large hands ever present on his bare skin, and ever good. Throughout their intimate encounter back at the man's penthouse, Kurt had informed Noah through their kisses that he simply liked being touched. He liked the simple pleasure of his skin and hair lightly stroked, petted, everything. It sent a thrill to course through his heart and it was the kind of high meant to faint from, but now, as Noah made to kiss him, it merely felt wrong. "No Noah, you can't do that here. Not now."

"Why what's wrong? Baby, what is it?" asked Noah gently as Kurt pulled his face away from the near kiss before tuning his face to look the other way, causing Noah to frown. His bid to find out what was wrong was failing. Kurt was being unresponsive and he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd come here for answers and he didn't have time to play games. "For fuck's sake Kurt, what's happened? Seriously, I don't know what's going on. You don't pick up, you don't call me back, it's like you're ignoring me again and sending strange ass men to answer your door. What the hell have I done to piss you off?!"

"Noah, please I-"

"Have I hurt you? Have I-"

"It's not me you've hurt, it's Quinn!"

"Quinn?" repeated Noah incredulously as Kurt harshly wrenched himself away from him and towards his dresser, yanking out a set of mint green yoga pants and a matching hoodie, the whole ensemble fitted flatteringly well to his slim physique. Though at this point, Kurt didn't care how he looked. His earlier complacent attitude was now gone and as he pulled on the clothes with a little more force than was necessary before turning back to Noah, he was tempted to hit the man over the head. How oblivious could a Harvard student get? "Why would she be hurt? She has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with this Noah! Don't you understand anything?!" shouted Kurt, marching right up to Noah and looking at him as if he were the most dim witted person he'd ever come across. Near fornication, definite infidelity had occurred. Kurt had been roped into a romantic friendship; an emotional affair that he suspected was nothing more than Noah allowing himself to be vulnerable and dependent, to seek intimacy, to wrongly seek it in him. "She's your fiancée! You're to be married to her yet there we were, three days ago on your couch, sticking our tongues down each other's throats!"

"Don't talk down to me Kurt; I know what we were doing! I know who Quinn is!" barked Noah with equal anger as Kurt blinked at the volume in his voice but kept his feet firmly planted where they were, never moving, never budging. Meanwhile as he did, Carlson had since crept from the front door to eavesdrop by the bedroom door, out of sight and out of mind. He just couldn't not here this. "If you felt so strongly about this you should have said something! It would have fucking hurt but I would have understood. I didn't force you into anything. I didn't mean to... trap you, Kurt. Baby... what changed?"

"I was brought back to my senses by a rude awakening," replied Kurt as each of them calmed down from the shouting to stand in front of each other, close together with hands and chests nearly touching. "Once you'd left for your meeting that day, I bumped into your old nanny. We had a little heart to heart talk in which she told me exactly what she thought of me, accusing me of seducing you, corrupting you, 'flaunting myself like a slut in society'... oh and of course naming me a conquest of yours. Not the best first impression I've ever given but then again, I'm a home-wrecker so I should get used to it."

"What the fuck, she called you all those things?!" exclaimed Noah loudly in disbelief, Kurt sighing sadly before going over to his bed and sitting on it, his head sinking into his shoulders with his body slumping in direct reflection. "God Kurt, I'm so sorry. Don't listen to what she said, she doesn't know anything. You were in a compromising position and she presumed who you were because of it. She's seen it all but she doesn't know any different. She doesn't know who you are to me. You're not just some one-night stand or casual fuck, hell we didn't even fuck. You're you Kurt, and I like you."

"I know Noah, but even though what that Anita woman said to me was unjust, I got the basic gist of what she was saying. What we're doing is wrong, and it can't happen again," replied Kurt, lifting his head to meet Noah's distressed eyes as the man rushed to kneel before him, taking a hold of Kurt's hands in his, stroking his thumb against his pale palm. It was a gesture assigned to comfort Kurt but it felt more like one for Noah, to avoid him from collapsing to the ground. "We gave into our baser instincts and took advantage of our weaknesses, but now we have to learn to rise above all of this."

"I'm not raising above anything Kurt; I want to see you how I want to see yo-"

"Then why are you with Quinn?" asked Kurt incredulously, his hands gesturing out in front of him derisively. "Noah, why are you marrying her? None of this makes any sense. You proposed to her yet you want the boy you kiss, me, and the woman you go home to, her, but I don't even think you even like each other. I've seen the way she turns her back on your public flirtations as if she couldn't care less. I know how she turns a blind eye to most of the things you do and you, Noah, after you brushed off my congratulations on your engagement at the Padova, I've known your feelings are pretty mutual."

"Kurt, I-"

"You're hiding information from me again Noah, and even though inquiring after the reason behind your marriage may be seen as intrusive, I'm in this now. I'm part of events," continued Kurt. "I don't know whether this marriage of yours has a reputation, wealth or vocation priority, I seriously don't, but its all I'm guessing since I sure as hell know you're not doing it out of love. I've seen you two together looking as comfortable as two sinners in church. Even at the Skyfall premiere you didn't fool me, and although you look like the perfect couple on the outside to some, I know deep down you're far from it."

"Fine Kurt! It's a marriage of convenience, all right! Jesus Christ! Quinn and I don't love each other, I get the picture!" roared Noah, Kurt jumping as the man stood up and began to storm around his room, his fists constantly clenching. "My mom got tired of hearing about all the girls I've been so she set the whole thing up. She said my behavior was 'tacky, immature and scared off investors' and if I didn't agree, she'd cut me off. That's why I'm with Quinn, Kurt. That's why we look all plastic and shit in public, and that's why I can't fucking be with you because... God damn it!"

"Well I guess you should be grateful she set you up with someone you know rather than a stranger shipped from some country in Asia," replied Kurt calmly, watching as Noah came down from his rant, though it was clear he was still seething. A marriage of convenience was orchestrated for personal gain, in this case Emily Puckerman's. She was sacrificing her son's happiness for the future of the company based on his past indiscretions, and no one was paying the price but Noah. "Both Mike and Tina told me the little history between you two at the ball. Said you casually dated occasionally throughout high school but that it was never serious until now. I suppose it was your mom's last act of kindness."

"I don't see any kindness in this at all. It's all total bullshit," retorted Noah in agitation as he returned to Kurt, sitting beside him on the bed. "Yeah Quinn and I went out four times in the past. The first because I had a lame crush on her and she took pity on how pathetic I was. The second because we both needed dates to our prom so she could win Prom Queen, which she did. The third because I was bored and the fourth to see if there really was anything there going for us, and guess what, there wasn't. Each time we broke up because we lost interest. It was all casual, all exclusive. Screw feelings, we didn't have any, or not nearly enough to make us work."

"Well then I'm sorry I entered your life too late," replied Kurt apologetically as he brought his hand to rest on Noah's atop his knee. There the boy proceeded to stroke it with as much feeling as he could enforce, trying to assure Noah as much as he could through touch. For it wasn't going to be easy for him. It was going to be hard not to act on his feelings now that they were mere friends. "If the circumstances had been different then I could have been yours and we could have started something but this ring on your finger is stopping me from going any further... Noah, I think it best if you leave now."

"What? Hell no Kurt, I'm not going to leave. We have to sort something out," retorted Noah, Kurt's hand now pulling him up to stand as the boy led him through his bedroom towards the front door. This could not be happening. Noah just couldn't grasp it. Kurt, the boy he wanted, was right here with his hand in his. Three days ago, they had been kissing in front of a roaring fire with a Mangia tasting breakfast the morning after but now, after a realization conjured up by the insults of his old nanny, he was being asked to leave, to never repeat what had happened, to forget it all. "Kurt, come on. Please."

"Noah, don't make this any harder than it has to be. I've given you my answer and my answer is no," stressed Kurt, reaching the front door before turning to face Noah, the man looking back at him as if he was either on the verge of throwing a major tantrum before smashing everything in sight to bits or to either burst into tears and start wailing into Kurt's shoulder. The model knew the man needed him, and he would be there for him, just not in that intimate sense. "We've had our little adventure and it was nice whilst it lasted but it had to end. Doesn't mean we can't be friendly. I do still care about you."

"I care about you too Kurt, but I fucking hate how I can't care about you the way I want to care about you," replied Noah, bringing in Kurt for another heart wrenching hug, engrossing themselves in something that they would not be able to afford to get away with in the future. To Noah, it allowed him to smell the vanilla accords of the Creed fragrance he had gifted Kurt with, the aroma rising like pheromones from the boy's pale neck whilst for Kurt; it allowed him the pleasure of being engulfed in arms so strong and protective that he never wanted to leave his own little castle. "And if it weren't for this stupid ring, I'd be whisking you away along with me now."

"I know Noah... oh, wait a minute, before you leave I have a little something for you," rushed Kurt, racing back into his bedroom, opening the Magnolia box and selecting a red velvet cupcake before running back to Noah, confection in hand. He didn't know what he was doing and he didn't think Noah knew either, but he just had to offer the man some sort of peace offering. Whether it was edible or not. "I know it's not much. Seeing as it's just a cupcake and all but I want you to have one. Think of it as the start of something new, something better. I mean we're good people, Noah. This isn't the end for us. It-"

Kiss. Kurt's words were engulfed as Noah brought him in for a final lip-locking kiss, the last one they were most likely ever going to share. Large hands had returned to his waist and hip and were pulling him forward against a supported body, neither one of them paying any attention to the abandoned cupcake being perilously held in Kurt's loosing hand. He was losing control. Noah was just too good at this and if the man's guttural groans were any indicator it seemed to Kurt that no sugared treat was needed for a so-called peace offering, this kiss was the only thing needed, needed for closure. Pulling away, Noah opened his near welling eyes, whimpering as he stroked Kurt's plump bottom lip with tortured longing before opening the door and disappearing beyond the threshold, leaving Kurt, mouth agape to stand there with only a cupcake for company.

He hadn't anticipated it happening. It fact he hadn't cried once since he'd left Noah's apartment but the moment he heard the apartment building's doors slamming shut, echoing and bouncing against the walls until it hit him full force, Kurt burst into tears, falling to a crumpled heap on the floor. He closed his own door, not wishing for his cries to be overhead by his neighbors but before he could even begin another round of sobbing, his friend rushed to his side. Carlson had quickly extracted himself from his hidden post near Kurt's bedroom entrance and had flown to his side, descending to his level and pulling him into a warm embrace so that he had someone to hold onto, anything at all that would keep him from crushing the remains of the red velvet cupcake that had since splattered to the floor.

"Shhh, it's okay Kurt, it's alright. I'm proud of you. You did well, you did the right thing. You did what was best and you did it well," comforted Carlson as Kurt's wails softened to some degree, lowering in volume but still very much present. It was a heartbreaking sight. Yes, he'd predicted Kurt's beauty would snag him a boyfriend sooner than he thought but he didn't think said boyfriend would be engaged, be a billionaire several times over and be the result of such sorrow, or the death of a cupcake. "Yeah, I think you've killed that one, but don't worry. We can go munch on its siblings. They'll be just as good."

"No, I want to save it. The top layer of icing will have to be removed but the rest of it should still be okay. At best it's just unconscious from severe head trauma," smiled Kurt, bringing his head up before moaning at the large tear stain he had just caused on Carlson, though the man didn't seem to mind. He helped Kurt to his feet, picking up the fallen cupcake as he did and lead the boy back to his bedroom where hopefully nobody else could get hurt. Kurt liked to think that the cupcake reflected his friendship with Noah. It might have suffered a major blow, and first thoughts may have been to abandon it, but nothing came about well if they weren't worked on, and this cupcake as well as this friendship were worth working on.

However, through it all, it didn't remove the emotional turmoil he'd suffered from these few last days. He really had come to care for Noah. The way the man had kept a hold of him for company, for someone to talk to and no one else. All those things that made Kurt feel as if he'd been there for someone in need, like his father had been there to console him after a rough day at school. Like it was his turn to comfort. Or maybe it was because, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself, whilst every boy at his high school had wanted to emulate Noah, every girl had wanted to be with him, including himself. He had had a school boy crush on Noah just like any other girl or sexually confused boy in America and had at the time, successfully buried it away under mountains of denial.

Admitting his hidden crush now would only come as a surprise to most people. He hadn't been discreet in expressing his dislike of Noah in the past but now that he had graduated from those days into a life with Noah now in it, the man preparing to cheat on his fiancée to have him in his arms, those feelings had, in response, reawakened and were quickly rising to the surface. It would be another few months before they would even begin to simmer down to whence they came before becoming dormant or even extinct, and that would only work if Kurt never saw Noah again.

 _I can't do that to Noah. I've already said no once, I can't say no again,_  thought Kurt as he now cradled his red velvet cupcake, its quick road to recovery hopefully reflecting his own with Noah. If permanent damage hadn't already been caused.  _Friends. Can we even be friends? Has our friendship even been left intact?_   _For I know, though it pains me to admit it, we can never go back…_

**.**

**Glee**

_**.** _

Walking past his door man so quickly the man didn't have time to grant him a greeting, Noah entered his apartment building and caught the elevator to his penthouse. He had been tempted to catch a cab from Kurt's place to avoid being around anyone but the truth was, he needed to walk off the event that had just happened. Kurt was no longer his. Not in the sense, Noah wanted him to be, and although now he was assured that the boy was safe and sound, without a single harmful graze on his skin, it just wasn't enough. They had reverted to friendship. Just friendship. Not even a cliché 'Best Friend Forever' necklace could fill the void that had now been gashed open. For Noah had had a taste of something sweeter, and once you were granted a taster of the best, you just couldn't go back.

How could one go back on a confession of feelings and forget such a conversation occurred? Everything was out in the open, Kurt knew everything. Now whenever they would go out for lunch, go drinking at a club or even stroll through the park, all the activities they had been able to do before hand, sexual tension would restrict them to averted looks without allowing for a flowing or casual conversation. Whenever Kurt would see Noah with Quinn, the boy would know the true nature if their loveless upcoming marriage which would render the situation all the more awkward, and finally, what would happen in the future, if Kurt were to enter a relationship of his own. Would Noah's jealousy run away with him as it had at the Balencia Ball? Would it expose the secret fling they had engaged in all that time ago?

This sucked. Everything about giving up things you truly wanted sucked, and to think that what they had actually shared together in that brief period had been so good. It would forever go down as a treasured memory to Noah, and hopefully to Kurt. The romantic hugs that had had the boy giggling that he'd been engulfed in Puckerman muscle, the easy talks they had had that had needed no kind of effort what so ever to help glide along and the kisses. Oh the kisses had been to die for. So soft, so good. God damn it, all Noah wanted to do was turn around, make his way to Kurt's apartment once more, break down his door and demand that the boy be with him, and to hell with the consequences. But Kurt's finalizing "no" that had embodied reason and principle, his moral principles that Noah respected and admired, held him back like a leash.

Kurt was a good person. He most likely believed in the sanctity of marriage and that stakes were much higher when business was involved, heightened by the fact that it was Puckerman business. But in the end, it was the person he was marrying accompanied by her trusty sidekick, Nanny Bitch, who had been the real wake up call to their dream. Q, Quinn, Quinn Fabray, Lucy Caboosey as she had been known in junior high before Noah had been acquainted with her, was his fiancée. She was bright, plucky and proud with beauty on her side and him on the other. Yet the fact that she was manipulative, dishonest and aggressive brought her down to an image that didn't encircle the perfect wife, or woman for that matter. Perhaps it had been because bad traits were top heavy that their past relationships had always ended.

Throughout high school, Noah and Quinn had entered a string of relationships that had always fizzled. They'd always blamed it on boredom by the truth was, their chemistry clashed. That and whenever Quinn had reared the ugly head of the darkened side of her character, Noah would always be reminded of his father's ruthfulness back when he'd managed his conglomerate. How the man had originally gained so much from other people's loss, even if he'd always said that's how life worked. Now life was working with him on a more personal level and he really didn't like it. He'd been oblivious of Quinn ever since he'd bought Kurt his fragrance. Maybe she had that little influence in his penthouse or even in his life. Maybe a pink pinned note was all the presence she had. A stark contrast to Kurt, who drew attention like compelling candy.

As the elevator opened up into his circular foyer, leading him to his front door, Noah entered his penthouse and leaned against the door, closing his eyes and sighing into the air. He needed to be alone now. He couldn't have people around him less he lash out at them. He felt like he needed a punching bag, preferably with Quinn's face on it, or Anita's if a replacement were needed. Speaking of Anita, she was here, and so was Sarah. Both of them were spending the day in his penthouse under the pretense that he wouldn't be and what with it being Sarah's weekly visiting day, but as Noah peeled himself from his door, made his way through his now empty looking penthouse and caught sight of them both in the kitchen working together and laughing, they too caught sight of him.  _What they're cooking had better be good._

"Noah!" greeted Sarah, removing her oven mitts and placing them on the counter. It seemed by the looks of it that his sister and his former nanny, now turned maid, had been spending some time baking their way into an oblivion. The whole kitchen was woven with a sugared aroma. The smell of flour, frosting and freshly baked cupcakes filling the air. Hugging his sister, Noah smiled down at her before turning to see Anita plastering on a fake smile that, in Noah's opinion, didn't cover shit. "Anita and I have just baked cupcakes and now we're going to decorate them. Do you want to join us?"

"Now Sarah, I'm sure your brother has more important things to do than to frost cake. But I suppose he can join us for the tasting session later, yes? Noah?" inquired Anita as both she and Sarah looked expectantly back at him, though it took a whole of strength on Noah's part to smile back convincingly. How this woman was speaking to him, it made him feel like he was guilty of something, and he was not going to feel guilty about anything. This was his penthouse, she was with his sister under his roof and she was his maid, no matter how extensive their history. "Noah? Will you come by later?"

"Oh please, say you will No-No. I found 'The Complete Magnolia Bakery Cookbook' I lost and I've wanted to make something from it for ages," smiled Sarah, bobbing up and down as she grabbed hold of the soft covered book and shoved it in his hands, the page open on what they were making: red velvet cupcakes. Noah blinked. A whole comprehensive collection of recipes from New York's sweetest bakery; adapted for the home kitchen, and they had decided to bake the same type of cupcake Kurt had offered him less than an hour ago, and from the same bakery who made them no less. "Noah? What's wrong?"

"What? Oh no, I was... its just been a while since I've seen this," stuttered Noah, snapped out of his thoughts as he put the book aside, his eyes lingering on the front cover before returning his gaze to his frowning sister. There had been a reason why he'd not accepted Kurt's cupcake. Like the boy had said, it symbolized something new, fresh, and better but Noah didn't want some new regime, some new era that had trampled all over the old one, yet here he was, being emotionally obliged to do just that. "Um sis? Do you mind if I nick Anita from you? We have some private matters to discuss. Think you can frost those cakes on your own?"

"Okay but not for too long. I need her just in case you return finding your walls painted in vanilla icing," replied Sarah, fixing Noah with an amused smile before heading off to start icing. However, such an expression had not been reflected on Anita's, as the smug look she had been sporting disappeared in favor of one of nervousness, her fidgeting a clear indicator. This is exactly the reaction Noah wanted to see, the fear of a 'private talk' seeping into her bones and there was no doubt that the woman knew exactly why she had been summoned. "I'll just call you guys if I mess up or something."

"Sure," nodded Noah, eying Anita with a look before briskly making his way to his study, the maid scurrying behind him. The smell of baking and sweetly sugared treasures left the senses the further they journeyed, but it was just as well. This wasn't going to be a fluffy talk. Not by the way, Noah was now ushering Anita into the room, indicating her to sit down in the seat before his desk and locking the door firmly behind them both. A drop of venom was going to have to be added in this conversation. "Now Anita, I-"

"Would it be best if I go change, Noah?" blurted out Anita, Noah's sentence cut short as the woman shuffled in her seat anxiously. As he left the door, rounded his desk and sat down, Noah scoured the woman's appearance. She was still wearing her apron which had been stained in many places with different ingredients. It wasn't going to cause that much of a problem, unless she continued to adjust her position, increasing the chance of a dollop of chocolate to fall to his carpet. He just needed to get some important things across and cake batter was not getting in the way. "I've still got this on and I-"

"No you won't, you will stay right where you are until I'm finished with you," ordered Noah, glaring right back at her authoritatively as Anita's nervous movements ceased in favor of lowering herself further into her chair, her figure closing in as her hands clasped together for support. Was she now pulling the cower like position Kurt had been in when she'd shouted at him all those days ago? Most likely. Had she given the poor boy a chance to defend himself? Most likely not. Her behavior had been shamefully improper and although Noah was trying not to take it too personally, he was. "I'm talking, you're listening. Understand?"

"Yes.. sir," nodded Anita, her eyes meeting his as Noah rose out of his seat and leaned his hands on the desk. Back when he'd been young, Anita had been a cross between a nanny and a governess, always teaching right from wrong and always holding his best interests at heart, even when it clashed with his mother's sometimes frivolous ideals. She had never approved of his ways with women, never approved about many things he did like coming home late from a club to wake up the next day at around midday, black circles under his eyes and always nagging his mother for something unnecessary, like another sports car. Now her disapproval had cost me dearly but unlike a car, it was irreplaceable.

"It's come to my attention that you spoke with Kurt Hummel on Friday morning whilst he was a guest here, correct?" inquired Noah, rounding his desk as he began pacing around the study, his hands hidden behind his back and looking down at Anita for confirmation. The woman however didn't seem to respond, but after a minute or so, she did, and only with a little nod of the head. Her eyes were pointing straight on, her posture rigid and uptight and as Noah continued to pace, so did the charges against her. "And in at that conversation am I to believe you affronted him, offended him and upset him?"

Another nod.

"Did you or did you not accuse him of being a conquest, an accomplice of adultery, a slut? Do you believe your actions were rude, discourteous, and disrespectful? Anita?" asked Noah, his temper rising with every nod the woman gave. The bitch. To be honest, he hadn't believed at first that she would do such a thing when Kurt had first revealed what had happened. Anita had always been very calm and reserved but it was as if she still thought of herself as his governess, his superior, as if he had no idea what he was doing. However times had changed, he was turning twenty-one in a few weeks, an adult, and no one was going to be the boss of him now.

As the final question hung in the air, an answer was deemed to follow, expected. No doubt another nod, but as soon as Anita's sight landed on a rather small framed picture of Quinn, smiling back at the camera, the picture somewhat hidden behind a small desk plant, her answer was altered. To her, Noah was still trying to prevent Quinn's presence in his life affecting him any more than it already had done. He was rejecting the idea of her and as sympathy for Quinn rocketed, a scowling look that deepened every second with a shake of her head was all she gave, causing Noah to stop in his tracks. Luckily, he was behind her at this point, not affording her a look at his stunned reaction, though he swore she could sense it anyway. She always seemed to have eyes on the back of her head.

"Well Anita, allow me to enlighten you," began Noah, using his position to his advantage. He lowered his head to whisper in her ear as she continued to look ahead, never shifting, never moving. "If you speak to him in that way again, I will see to it that every home and every check book is closed to you. You will be welcome neither in job centers nor in any businesses you wish to work in. Your imaginings of aspiring to become anything remotely better than a maid and your hopeful fantasies of living the American Dream… will be dead as  _ash..._ and you will never see Sarah and Jake again."

"Guys?! I've finished icing the cupcakes! I set to them to cool on the rack for the remaining time... guys?! No-No?! Anita?! Are you in there?" called Sarah, knocking on the door as her young voice seemed to somewhat lighten the dark atmosphere that had descended in the room. For all that was left was a man struggling to keep his dominant appearance over a woman who had burst into tears. Anita's sobs were crying and as Noah granted her leave, she leaped out of the chair and fled the room. "Anita, why are you crying? It's okay, the cupcakes aren't ruined or anything. We can always make some more."

Enveloping Sarah into a bone-crushing hug as the girl struggled to comprehend what was going on; Anita let her tears rain down on her top. She picked Sarah up and carried her back to the kitchen as the girl attempted to comfort her, soothing her with strokes of her hair and promising delicious cake to help her. Back in the study, Noah closed his door and leaned against it, sighing to himself. He'd hoped to have this conversation without Sarah here. If wasn't fair on her. He'd hoped he wouldn't have had to threaten Anita with anything. Unlike in his teens, it now wasn't in his nature and he'd hoped it wouldn't have come down to any of this, but it had. It wasn't fair.

If Kurt were to ever return, Noah couldn't risk anyone chasing him away again, especially now that they weren't exactly on solid ground, and especially now that they were 'friends'. This would have to mean that Noah would have to watch himself. No lingering touches, no suggestive looks and no dragging Kurt to his bed and having his way with him. None of that was now allowed. He was just going to have to see if he'd hold out. Maybe he would. Maybe this crush on Kurt would fade away and leave behind an embarrassing memory of hormones gone wild. Or maybe not. Maybe they'd always be there forever to remind him that forbidden affection really did exist.

_I'll never get over him._


	14. Recovering Retreat

As the plane touched down onto the Columbus airport strip below, Kurt closed his eyes, his body vibrating in the wake of the brakes decelerating to a final halt. He was home. He had arrived in the city of his birthplace and the state he had spent his entire childhood. Although those particular years hadn't gone swimmingly well for him, it didn't matter. Escapism is what he needed. The company of friends, a movie and a symbolic cupcake hadn't been enough of a change. In Ohio, there were no skyscraper mazes that boasted influential, political and financial power. There were no flashing cameras that caught the emotion in your eye no matter how well you tried to conceal it, but above all, there were no conglomerate heirs haunting Kurt's every step, reminding him of events that had shaken his very own world to the core.

His home town of Lima, which was around two hours away from the capital, was the perfect retreat, though not in the brochure sense. It wasn't a beautiful area by far. The architecture was dated except for a few modern pieces scattered here and there and the local council seemed to have ignored certain areas, covering them up with foliage as if the various shades of green were going to make up for the fact that Lima needed majorly sprucing up. Not a lot of money was being pumped into the town all that much, but Kurt wasn't coming here for the sights. In fact, the look of concrete was the last thing he wanted to see. He longed for greenery, he wished for the scent of the country, he needed his lungs cleared of all the slightly sulfur tinged air that blew across New York. His personal agenda had him returning for his own reasons.

He had of course informed his father, Burt, of his upcoming return, much to the man's enthusiasm. They hadn't seen in other in weeks, and Kurt didn't like to think of his father alone, coming home from work to no one, eating breakfast through dinner by himself, everything done at home with only himself as company. It was a lonely life, which meant that Kurt completely understood when Burt hadn't allowed any second thoughts to cross his mind. He was coming home and that was final, though the reason behind it hadn't been discussed. At the time, his father had been so blind with happiness that Kurt hadn't wanted to dampen his bliss with what had happened in New York, but with the boy now here, stepping off the plane on to the jet way, he began to fear the round of upcoming questions lining up like bullets, ready to shoot him down.

Weaving his way through the many airport terminal stages including the passport booths before clearing customs, Kurt arrived at the baggage claim. The conveyor belt carousel delivered his suitcase at hand and as he wheeled it towards the main foyer, he kept his eyes peeled for his father, his neck craning as he tried to catch a glimpse of Burt's signature baseball cap. Apart from letting his father know of his departure from New York, Kurt had done Carlson a parting favor. The boy had learned from his mistakes, learned to not keep people in the dark and had informed his friend where he would be staying for the next couple of days. Carlson had appreciated being let in on his whereabouts and had promised to pass on the news only when utterly necessary, no exceptions.

Now however, Kurt had worried that people would start hounding Carlson. He feared Noah would barge his way towards him just as he had done so before, demanding where Kurt was less he be throttled against a handrail. However, Kurt had nothing to fear. Carlson was a big boy and had enough power in him to fend off any curious ears, especially those belonging to an heir in an emotionally fragile state. Now though, Kurt was doing his best to rid those plaguing thoughts. All he wanted to see was his father and all his father wanted to see was him, instead of relying on embarrassing childhood photographs of his son wearing no underpants.  _If only I had been wearing one more item of clothing,_  thought Kurt as his search was suddenly cut short when out of the crowd appeared Burt Hummel, his father hurtling towards him as his arms spread wide for the hug.

"Dad!" greeted Kurt, dropping his suitcase and remaining bags to the floor as Burt met him head on, enveloping his son in his big arms. It took no time at all for Kurt to sink into the assuring touch of his father but as the hug increased in force, Burt bringing him ever closer, Kurt began to squirm in discomfort. In no time at all, Kurt was sure he was going to meet the same fate as Twinkie The Kid in a Simpsons episode he'd seen. He was going to be squeezed to death, with all his creamy goodness exploding from within. "Every bone shattering… organs leaking vital fluids… slight headache… loss of appetite… dad… you're killing me…"

"Oops, sorry Kurt. I haven't hurt you have I? I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to do that. I just couldn't wait to see you," rambled Burt nervously, letting go of his struggling son as Kurt let out a giant sigh of relief, his body feeling as if he'd just painfully slept in an attic with a one inch high ceiling above his head for a month. For Burt, he'd forgotten how sensitive his son could get if he got carried away with hugs and so, just to relieve Kurt the effort of carting his heavy baggage from the floor to the car, Burt offered his help, his son offering a grateful smile in thanks. "It's alright, I'll take these. Serves me right for breaking you."

"Thanks. I left most of my stuff back in New York since all I need right now are the bare necessities. I want to reacquaint myself with the things I've left behind," replied Kurt, allowing Burt to drop a kiss to his head as the man wound an arm around his slim shoulders before leading them both out through the sliding glass doors. It seemed that Kurt had been telling the truth about the load he'd brought. In fact it was too light a load to be considered a load at all. Yet as Burt inspected his son's appearance more closely, he noticed where it had all gone. Kurt was carrying everything on his drooping shoulders.

"Son? Are you all right? You seem a little dow-"

"I'm fine."

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine dad, I'm just jet lagged."

"Sure you are, Kurt. You know, I didn't want to say this and I mean this in the nicest way possible but, you look like hell," argued Burt, reaching for the car keys, opening up the vehicle and looking back over to his son who was eying him with nothing but an unwelcome glare. If Burt hadn't known any better than he would have guessed Kurt wasn't at all happy to be back, wasn't happy to see him, but he knew better. It looked as though New York had sucked his son dry of his former self, spitting out a boy with a fatigued face, dull and lifeless looking hair and a posture as hunched as a cripple's.  _Oh dear._

"Thanks for the uplifting meet and greet, dad. How about you pitch the idea of printing off that line to a doormat company. I'm sure it would sell millions," snapped Kurt, Burt rolling his eyes in the wake of the sarcastic comment before placing everything in the boot of the car and shutting the door. Everything was obviously not fine. Who was Kurt kidding? Whenever he was agitated, upset, or even slightly annoyed, sarcastic comments and insults of a witty nature would come flying out, more often than not followed by a guilty apology, like now. "I'm sorry, dad. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I-"

"It's alright son, we've all been there," smiled Burt, patting Kurt's thigh reassuringly as they entered the car, strapped themselves in, the man peeling out of the parking space and towards the exit. Opening up the glove compartment, Kurt pulled out a packet of Madeleine's by Bonne Maman and proceeded to snack on a few, his eyes fluttering closed for a minute before reopening to the whizzing sight of the motorway, everything flashing by as they began their trek on home. However as the silence stretched, Burt felt the need to break it for comfort's sake. "I get it Kurt, something's up... you want to talk-"

"No... no, that's quite alright. I could do with not talking right now."

"Are you sure? Because we both know you don't like radio, and your iPhone's in the back."

"Yes... I'm quite sure."

"It's a long journey. A long tense, awkward joun-"

"Dad, will you stop? I don't want to talk about it," replied Kurt in frustration, shifting his body away from his father to further reacquaint himself with Ohio's scenic landscapes and views, the same picturesque sights he'd seen a few months back on his way to the same airport. Burt, sensing from the finality in Kurt's stubborn tone to his reclusive body language, gave in. He wished for the days he'd spend with his son to be of a pleasant nature, not of one that would relive teenage angst. Though the expression on Kurt's face seemed only to echo that emotion like nothing else _. What the hell had happened in that city?_

"So... how's the modeling coming along? You're still doing it right?" inquired Burt, looking over to his son as Kurt nodded ever so slightly, his pale hands fumbling with a half eaten slice of Madeleine. They were French traditional small cakes that Elizabeth, Kurt's mother, had hooked their son on back when he had been a child. She'd discovered them on a trip to Commercy, Lorraine in France and had made it her business to add a little culture to Kurt's comfort food. "I only ask because for the past few days, you haven't been keeping me updated as much as you used to. I was starting to worry."

"I'm sorry, dad," apologized Kurt, sighing against the window as he shifted his body to a neutral position, eying the remaining Madeleine's before placing them back into the glove compartment. It was true. He'd unknowingly left his father in the dark after withholding a constant stream of updates. Then again, after a certain ball, maybe it was for the best. "There's just been a lot of drama in my life recently. I mean I thought I'd arrive in New York, do the work experience, have another crack at trying for NYADA, and see what would happen from there. I just didn't expect... it was all unprecedented."

"Kurt, no one can blame you for being overwhelmed by it all," assured Burt, his eyes fixed to the road but occasionally flitting then over to his son as Kurt suddenly grew more agitated, as if he were bursting to reveal something but couldn't, restraining himself from blurting out a mistake. "Living in the big city, surviving on your own, coming here in one piece, albeit a little worn, is a huge feat, son. You should be proud of yourself, and you should know that. Many kids your age would not have the endurance for such a change. I'd thank your independence, because all that, topped with switching caree-"

"Yes, but even if only a limited number of kids my age are able to do what I have done, most of them won't have been invited to a ball at the plaza only to be embarrassed in front of high society, most won't have been chased out of a penthouse by an angry maid and most won't have entered a near adulterous..." ranted Kurt as his eyes grew wide at the realization of what he had just blurted out. This was not good. His father was frowning and looking over at him between intervals and Burt never failed to catch onto things his son would blurt. "... um... just an example of... um... just a for instance... see I know this-"

"Kurt, what you've just listed happened to you, right?" asked Burt, looking over once again at his son who refused to answer, but had one of his hands clasped to his mouth, as if he couldn't trust his face hole to stay shut. Had Burt been given a teasing insight into what Kurt was escaping from? Was he fleeing corruption? The world of drugs, sex and rock and roll? How very sixties of him. "Son, I'm not as oblivious as you think. I listen to what you say, every word but embarrassed, chased out and adultery? What were you doing in New York, Kurt? Joining some sort of underground sexpot cult? Were you even modeling?"

"Of course I was! And no, I didn't join a cult of any kind, don't be ridiculous," replied Kurt in indignation, Burt shrugging as he chuckled under his breath. "You needn't worry dad. Through my work experience, I made some loyal friends who have looked out for me, and through the modeling, I met some others who are nothing but mutant strains of upper east side anal. I've been introduced to a selection of well off crowds who do nothing but consciously cultivate an eccentricity so that people around won't notice they're completely devoid of personality, and I've met some well known faces, one of which-"

"One of which you're running from now, am I right?" guessed Burt, the aloof and slightly arrogant character his son was pulling on, all taking part in the huge failing parade of denial. Kurt could dish it out, he just didn't when to stop. "Look Kurt, no matter how many times you refuse to talk about this, we are going to talk about it, but not now. I think I'll need a drink before you off load it all. It's really just as well I've invited over an audience for your return. I'm sure she'll be of better use at such a time where you look as if you're going to blow from not sharing what has happened with anyone but me."

"I'm sorry, it's just one of those things that... wait, an audience? Please elaborate. Elaborate now."

"Do the words Beyoncé, Ain't no Kelly Roland and Little Oprah mean anything to you?"

"You didn't..."

"Do the words Chocolate Mama, Coffee Queen and R&B's Sugar Girl ring a bell?"

"Mercedes?! You got me 'Cedes?!" shouted Kurt excitedly, Burt wincing as the son proceeded to jump and down in his seat. Burt had wanted it to be a surprise, especially since Kurt had retained a certain gloominess throughout the trip, but he just couldn't help himself. His son had a smile worth working to appear and when it did, it was glorious. "Oh my God! I thought she'd gone to study at the University of California back in September! Don't tell me you lured her back here under the false pretenses that you'd feed her Tater Tots, because right now I am not presentable to be meeting my home girl."

"Don't worry Kurt, I think she'll accept the way you look just this once," chuckled Burt, Kurt pulling down the ceiling mirror as he attempted to gussy up his jet lagged appearance. Not much could be done except ridding the crumbs of French cake from his top and maybe the little arrangement of the hair here and there but apart from that, Kurt really did agree with his father on this one. He looked like hell. Now he remembered why he'd stayed well clear of his high school's teenage angst and drama. It has been the sole outfit he'd tried on to date that had not looked good on him. "After all son, nobody's perfect."

"That only applies to the those who aren't models. When you're a model, that saying no longer applies. In fact, it's the one saying you can't afford to apply," rambled Kurt, maneuvering his belt around himself so that he could twist around the back of his seat, before undergoing a thorough check for any beauty tools of the kind, anything that could whip him up into the effortlessly striking model he was, instead of settling for something that had been caught in a drain. "God damn it... okay... I think I may have lost an old tub of Mac concealer somewhere in this car. If I can just find..."

However, with the feel of his hand across the car's floor to the flick of his searching eyes, Kurt pulled himself back into his seat only to be revealed his home's driveway, the flash of time that had been two hours, whizzing by in the space of several sentences, stunning him into silence. However the sight of the familiar garage door that he'd accidentally run into back in fourth grade was no great distraction from the sight of his childhood best friend, Mercedes Jones.

The black diva was leaning against their front door with her hip cocked out and a bejeweled hand accompanying the pose. Her face was smiling in the wake of their return and she too looked as if years had passed since they had seen each other last. It was just a great sight, and Burt just couldn't help but pat himself on the back in congratulations as his son leaped from the still parking car and bolted towards his friend, his arms outstretched, his body open and his face has happy and as smiling as the happiest child on earth.

**.**

 

**Glee**

**.**

"Woah Kurt, just give me a second whilst I massage my head free of the knots you've caused with this story of yours," began Mercedes as she lifted her hands to her forehead, rubbing slowly in concentric circles as she willed with all her might for the headache that was knocking at her door to go away. This was not the time. Processing news as gargantuan as this was hard enough as it was without painful distractions. "Okay... um... you're saying you arrived in New York, where you were discovered by accident at your work experience... which lead you to actually become a model? Right?"

Kurt nodded. It had been a few days since his return to Lima, and he had loved every minute of it. Waking up in his old bed with the ice muck scent of fresh linen greeting his senses, allowing his father to ruffle his hair as they both watched Deadliest Catch and lounging around with Mercedes, as they cuddled up under the covers and pretended they were in a dark cave trying to find their way out. Just like old times. The diva had slept over every night, wishing to spend as much time with her gay best friend as possible, before she too had to return to Los Angeles for college, as well as to sing backup for an independent music label she had recently signed up to. Kurt had welcomed the wonderful news with glee but it had only instigated a round of questions and answers on his side that had now lead to this moment.

"You were cast in the The Salvatore Spectacle and went to the after party where you met Noah Puckerman," continued Mercedes as Kurt bit his lip nervously. "You went on a lunch date with Noah Puckerman, got invited to the Balencia Ball by Noah Puckerman, got spoiled with perfume by Noah Puckerman, went over to his penthouse where he said he liked you, kissed you, nearly entered in a secret affair with you, but you broke it off to stay 'friends', which is why you're here for change because you say you can't trust yourself not to go back on your word... what... I mean... what the fuck Kurt?"

"Yes, exactly Mercedes! What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?!" exclaimed Kurt, his hands erupting from his lap as they clasped at his head, as if they too were trying to find some sort of logical explanation for the events over the past months. It was just as well they were in his room, what with it being soundproofed and all, as Mercedes' incredulous tone had increased in volume with each passing word. He understood that she was trying to swallow gargantuan news that lead her eyes to wince and bulge wide, but he was the only one allowed to freak out. "Oh God, I'll have to suffocate myself in my pillow."

"This isn't a joke Kurt, I... I don't know what's got into you. You willingly went ahead and fooled around with an engaged man. Granted you ended it, but what if that maid hadn't shouted at you? Would you be with Puckerman now?" asked Mercedes in despair, Kurt looking down to stare at his duvet in guilt as he sat cross-legged on his four-poster bed. Shuffling closer, the girl lay her hand on his, resting once again in his lap, as she tried to seek an answer from those baby-doll eyes. "And this modeling business. I thought you wanted to do musical theater, sing the show tunes, go to NYADA. What happened to you?"

"I guess... I grew up."

"No Kurt, you've yet to grow up," replied Mercedes as Kurt looked up at her pathetically, the dim light in the room offering slight concealment to the sadness brimming in his eyes. "This is serious. Sure, we make mistakes to learn from them, fine, but you don't make mistakes of that nature with Puckerman. What if Quinn had found out? What if his mom or anyone else at his company had found out? They would have got rid of you. They practically own Manhattan, they could have chucked you out. Bye-bye Broadway. I mean it's just... God Kurt... I just... I don't know what you're going to do."

"I don't know either, Cedes. I feel as if I should do everyone a favor and disappear, just leave and never come back," Kurt cried out as he slumped into his friend's supportive arms. He didn't want his father knowing about what had happened. It would disappoint him and bring shame to their name, something Kurt would strive never to bring. "I've hurt my dad for not trusting him with any of this, I've hurt Quinn even though she doesn't know it yet, I've hurt Noah for not giving him what he wants and now I've hurt both you and me with what I've done. God, I can't stand being a disappointment."

"Shh boo, calm down, take it easy, we'll figure something ou-"

"The worst part is, I wasn't doing anything wrong Cedes, I was just modeling. I didn't ask to meet Noah, but he was all alone and he just called out to me. I didn't know he was going to want more, I didn't even know he went both ways," continued Kurt as Mercedes struggled to retain a comfortable hold around the squirming boy, but even to her, Puckerman's alleged bisexuality was baffling, yet ever so sexy. "God damn it, I'm stronger than this. I graduated McKinley freaking High School for heaven's sake; I shouldn't have to have someone holding my hand through something as petty as this."

"Kurt, this is far from petty. Noah and Quinn will soon be exchanging vows in a house of God, before God himself, vows that he would have broken if this all would have happened later, and you would have been branded every home-wrecking reference in the dictionary," replied Mercedes as Kurt muffled moans sank into her shoulder. "But you have me boo, along with your dad and your actor friends in New York. They seem to really care about you. Especially that Carlson guy. Going out of his way to buy cupcakes to cheer you up. That's a classy touch. You sure he's not a little interested?"

"What? No, Carlson's just friendly like that. He's my protective straight friend who... kissed me once... on the lips."

"My, my, aren't you popular with the New York boys," giggled Mercedes, Kurt smiling light tender-heartedly before letting out a long, drawn out yawn. His exhaustion was to be expected. They'd began the day shopping for fragrance mists at The Body Shop, followed by time trying to ward off hungry pigeons from their lunch, followed by returning to Kurt's kitchen to cook Mercedes' mom's treasured recipe for oatmeal cookies, before finally ending with the evening confession. "I'll let you nap this thing all out but you only get a nap, not a sleep. I want us to cruise the online shopping sites for midnight treasures."

Moaning in confirmation before settling himself comfortably for his nap, Kurt sank into a light snooze as Mercedes climbed off the bed. She made sure not to ruffle it too much before dimming down the lights and heading upstairs to where Burt was watching late night infomercials on the TV. However, it didn't look as if he was giving the screen a whole lot of his attention. A beer was in his hand whilst the other absentmindedly peeled the label off from around the glass, the lack of effort indicating to the diva that Kurt was not the only Hummel suffering from problems. At this point, she felt a little guilty. Here she'd been, hogging Burt's son whilst Burt himself hadn't spent a full day with Kurt. No twenty-four hour father and son bonding time had happened, and with Kurt scheduled to leave soon, it didn't make the situation a whole lot better.

"Hi," greeted Mercedes as she appeared in the living room archway, Burt flicking his head from the flashing screen to meet her eyes. Upon seeing the man's saddened face, Mercedes' guilt worsened. Burt very much looked lost and helpless, such an alien look on him that was not seen all that often, or by the diva anyway. All she got in return was a slight smile and a nod of the head for recognition, before she shifted from her perch and went to sit in the armchair alongside the couch. "Kurt's just dozed himself into a nap. He's pretty out of it. I think he's worn himself out from all that's been happening."

"Maybe you wore him out."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," smiled Mercedes, Burt accompanying her grin as they laughed quietly, the amusement dying as soon as it had come. Picking up the remote, the man proceeded to mute the volume on the screen before leaning his elbows on his knees and sighing. Mercedes, thinking it was a good time say sorry for hogging Kurt, shifted in her seat and went to open her mouth, but found it hard at first to form the words. She'd never apologized to Burt before. "Look Burt, I want to apologize for taking up all of Kurt's time here. I'm being selfish and I feel like I'm trespassing on time you could be talking with him."

"Maybe it's just as well, Mercedes," replied Burt, as he lifted his head to meet the girl's gaze. There was no resentment in his eyes, or in his voice. It just felt as though he was losing a son, despite it being false. Kurt still very much loved his father. It's just that the boy had always been too proud for his own good. "Being his best friend grants you access to what plagues his mind but me, the parent, it's different. It's always a battle to try and get stuff out, and I don't know whether that's because I'm his father or if it's just Kurt. I never know with my son."

"Give him time, he'll turn around," assured Mercedes as Burt smiled in gratitude before turning the TV off for good. He placed his beer on the coffee table and stood up. Mercedes however, thanked the lord Kurt wasn't here to see it. He'd probably have lectured his father on the lack of coaster present. "He's just told me about everything that's been happening to him as of late and it's... I'm not going to lie, it's pretty heavy stuff. He's just afraid you might take it the wrong way and you know... Just think of me as the test audience, here to ease Kurt into eventually telling you. Although be warned, it has a PG-13 rating."

"Well I did get a teaser trailer of it on our trip from the airport. Words like adultery got thrown around."

"I'm... I'm not going to say anything. It's not in my place to. I'm just going to leave it up to Kurt to tell you."

"I hope so. I just can't help thinking life is making up for all the high school drama he didn't experience, and its throwing it all at him now."

"And in that sense he's lucky. New York City, modeling, parties and... rich men. Our little Kurtie sure is living the life."

"You kids," chuckled Burt as Mercedes rose from her seat and followed Burt into the hallway. Only then did she notice the time on the clock. It was nearly midnight. She hadn't realized she and Kurt had been talking for so long. It hadn't felt it at all. "Right, I'm off to bed. Don't stay up too late, I want Kurt to be alive and awake for tomorrow. I want him to say hi to the guys at the garage, but I won't be able to bring him if he's going to be as sedated as a barbiturate abuser around heavy machinery. He might end up falling into one of the vehicle inspection pits."

"Don't worry, he'll be as fresh as a fruit tomorrow. Goodnight," smiled Mercedes, Burt granting her a 'night' and a parting nod before climbing the stairs and leaving on her own at its foot. With a small click, Burt closed his door. Now there were two Hummels retiring to dream land. Mercedes wasn't tired though. Kurt's confession was too busy keeping her awake as she made her way into the kitchen and prepared two glasses of warm milk. It was a remedy not only for nightmares and when counting sheep simply didn't cut it, but also as a mood elevator, the healthier kind. It was something that had always worked for Kurt on many abusive high school occasions, even though he wasn't a great fan of dairy products after he'd read an article claiming to boast scientific proof that dairy was a direct instigator to a poor complexion. Absolute rubbish.

Pouring the warm milk from the pan into two separate glasses, Mercedes placed both brimming beverages on a tray before switching off the stove as well as the lights as she left the room. Now that most of the lights in the house were out, darkness having descended all around, it just made it that much harder for the girl to make her way through the hallway to Kurt's basement door without running into an end table or an umbrella stand. She hadn't really thought this through, especially since both her hands were occupied when it came to actually open the door. A dilemma if there ever was one. Sighing to herself, Mercedes placed the tray on the ground next to her but as her hand made its way towards the handle, she jumped.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Flicking her head towards the front door, Mercedes' eyes blinked. She'd frozen at the sound of the knocking but she did not attempt to answer it. It would be polite not to, seeing as this wasn't her house. She was a guest here. It would be like if she were to answer the phone. She didn't have the right. Yet as the knocking continued ever so obnoxiously loudly, Mercedes approached the door anyway. She began to fear that both Kurt or Burt would awaken from the sound, even if she'd heard nothing from either of their bedrooms, not even a creaking of floorboards or a faint rustling of anything. Both of them were very tired and the last thing they needed was midnight company.

As she approached the door, she held her breath. It was rude of this person to be calling at such an hour but then again, what if it were someone in need, someone who needed help, someone who was in danger. They could be stranded out in the street for hours if she didn't help them and she couldn't have that on her conscience if she were to get to sleep tonight. With that in mind, Mercedes ever so slowly reached for the door and opened it slightly, peeking her head around to see whomever it was who had come knocking.

At first sight she couldn't comprehend who was actually standing before her, shivering in the cold evening air, holding a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and looking as if he'd just been blown by the wind across several states to get to this door like some human tumbleweed. He looked good with a leather jacket, dark jeans and boots, but the ruffled and unkempt appearance just rendered him sloppy in her eyes, yet as the man's stressed hazel orbs eventually connected with hers, she sighed. Trust life to throw Noah Puckerman before the Hummel doorstep, the very last person who was welcome here right now.

"Hi... um... I'm sorry, I don't mean to disturb you or anything," began Noah, garnering up enough energy to pull a small smile at the girl behind the door, before shuffling on his feat as he looked back down at the piece of paper in his hand. On it was Kurt's Lima address that had been given to him by the model's friend Carlson after he'd paid the man a visit. It had been a major struggle to get a hold of it, what with the loyalty obstacle getting in the way, but the actor had eventually relented. "I'm Noah Puckerman and um... I'm not from around here and I'm somewhat lost. I was wondering if you could help me out."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" seethed Mercedes loudly through clenched teeth. The chilly air outside was seeping through the gap in the door and as she opened it up a little further to enunciate every syllable to the man before her, the colder she got. She didn't need this right now. She could be surfing the web for cute dresses in Kurt's bed whilst sipping on a glass of warm milk but no, she had to deal with Puckerman and his oddly romantic mission for Kurt.  _Damn him!_  "Its 11:45 in the evening and people are trying to sleep here. Hell, I was about to go to bed myself if it weren't for you."

"I know, I'm sorry, I got here as quickly as I could from the airport but the taxi guy dropped me off at the wrong hous-"

"Mr. Puckerman, this is Lima Ohio, not Downtown New York, and here people go to bed when the sun goes down, not when it's around 3 o'clock in the morning and you've yet to receive a lap dance at five more strip clubs."

"I'm sorry, but I really need to know if this is 415 Whitman Avenue. I've been out here searching for fifteen minut-"

"So what if it is? You think I'm going to let you in?"

"Are you saying this is the place then? Because I'm looking for Kurt Hummel. I was told he lives here," replied Noah as he breathed a sigh of relief. When he'd first arrived, not only had he been led to the wrong house but on the wrong street. He had brought next to no luggage with him, just a backpack large enough to store the essentials and for the last quarter of an hour, he'd been traipsing aimlessly around the area for this house. It was one of those few times when he'd regretted not paying enough attention in Geography map reading. "I'm a friend of his see, from back in New York, and I-"

"I know who you are Mr. Puckerman. Yes, even cow herding Lima citizens have heard of you, or moreover talked about, but I'm not going to judge you from what I've heard. Kurt made it very clear for me not to," said Mercedes shortly as she grimaced at her own words. Kurt had earlier explained how sensitive Puckerman could get around the 'rumor' topic, but it gave no excuse for this intrusion. "However, I am going to judge you for coming to his home at... now ten to midnight. If you had any decency you would have shacked up in the ritziest hotel this measly town has to offer and then come by in the morning."

"I know, but I don't know anyone in this town except for Kurt and I could really do with seeing him now," encouraged Noah as he took a step forward, Mercedes' eyes widening before returning to their narrow slit like appearance. This man was really pushing his luck or really deluded if he thought she was going to simply open the door and welcome him in as if he were invited for tea and crumpets. Under any other circumstances, under the yellow tinted haze of the porch light, Puckerman's eyes squinting from looking at the small printed note, she might have relented, but now was not the right time at all. "Is he here? Could I talk to him, please?"

"He is here, yes, but no, you can't see him let alone talk to him. He's sleeping," snapped Mercedes. "Look, I'm his best friend and he's told me everything about what has happened between the two of you back in New York. He's not skimped out on anything but he's still sensitive to it all. He hasn't even told his dad and the last thing he needs are unexpected surprises. So why don't you do him a favor and fly back home to your fiancée, to your evil maid and to your huge ass penthouse, which from what I've heard is nothing but a spider's web like trap of fornication than a hotbed bachelor pad."

"Fine I deserve that, blame everything on me, I don't care, I just want to see Kurt," pleaded Noah desperately as Mercedes made to close the door. However, with a strong hand slamming itself against the polished wood with as much strength as a horse's kick, she couldn't shut it. There she struggled as she threw the man a heated glare. For Noah, getting beyond the threshold was the chance to see Kurt again and although the things this girl had said had been hurtful, he didn't care. Kurt was here. "Please, I flew all the way over here; I won't leave without talking to him. God damn it, what's your problem?!"

"Me?! I'm not the one who has one serious case of codependency! You're acting like Kurt's your only sustenance!"

"Will you just... open the-"

"You don't know when to quit do you?! Nobody wants you here, Puckerman! In fact Kurt came here to get away from you! Can't you take a hint?!"

"Fuck the hint! I want to see Kurt! I want to see-"

"Noah?" came a small from behind Mercedes as she gasped and whipped around to see Kurt standing right outside his bedroom door, his eyes squinting as he gently rubbed at them for a clearer sight. The boy didn't know what was going on. After shifting in his bed for a more comfortable position, he'd overheard voices upstairs, an argument between his friend and what sounded like Noah. The pushing and throwing of the door, the banging and the exclaims of disagreement had had him blindly climbing his basement stairs to the sight of Mercedes struggling to shut the front entrance against a force that looked as if it had the power to smash both the door and the diva down into splintering smithereens. "What is going on?"

"It's alright boo, I've got this! Go back to bed! I'm just undergoing pest control! It's a big one!"

"Kurt! babe, is that you?! It's me! Tell your psycho friend here to let me in!"

"Who are you calling 'psycho', you little playboy rat! Stop stalking my boy or I'll call the cops on your white ass!"

"Kurt! I'm begging you! Baby!"

"I told him to leave Kurt, but he just won't go! He just wont... argh!" cried out Mercedes as with one final giant shoulder shove strong enough to catapult a lighter person through the house and into the garden out back, Noah slammed the door open, sending the girl tumbling to the ground and skidding several meters across the polished wooden floor before coming to a halt at Kurt's feet. The model gasped as he quickly crouched down to his knees before helping her up to her feet, Mercedes' wincing as she regained her footing. "Thanks boo. It's all right, I haven't broken anything. I'll be fine... just as long as  _he's_  not here."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," apologized Noah profusely, leaving his panting perch at the door frame before closing it and nearing the two. However he stopped dead in his tracks as both Kurt and Mercedes cowered back in fear, their eyes on high alert, as if they couldn't trust him not to grab a hold of both their heads before ramming them together into unconsciousness. It was the worst feeling in the world. He hadn't come here to relive the experience of being a high school jerk, but here he was, breaking into someone's house. Seriously?! Had he lost his fucking mind?!

"Noah, what are you doing here?" asked Kurt accusingly, his tone cold as ice as he glowered at Noah, his arms still around Mercedes as she too eyed the man icily. What the hell was Noah doing here? They hadn't seen each other for a little over a week since they'd ended their affair but here he was, in his house, uninvited and looking at him as if he'd stumbled upon a pool of perfect water in the Sahara desert. "How did you find out I was here? How did you get this... address... fuck, Carlson. Damn it, what did you do? Tell me exactly what you did to him for him to have told you where I was."

"I didn't do anything to him, Kurt. He's fine. I explained I needed to see you and he told me," replied Noah, as he calmed his erratic breath. Even with tousled bed hair, a rumpled pajama shirt and bare legs as white as the moon's rays outside, Kurt somehow still managed to look incredible. Before this sight, Noah didn't want to admit Carlson had given him the address out of pity after the threats, the rejected bribe, the begging, everything that made him cringe even now. "Kurt, she says you left New York because of me, is that true? God, I thought we were friends, there was no need to run away from me."

"And there was no need for you to barge in here like some human battering ram and hurt my friend. In fact, if there was ever a good time to run away from you Noah, it would be now," retorted Kurt, letting go of Mercedes before taking a few steps forward towards the man. "Look, we are friends Noah, but you've got to learn to take no for an answer. What you've just done is totally unacceptable. It's a criminal offense, for heaven's sake. This is now the second time you've done this, and you're lucky, because if I were anyone else you'd be in jail with a restraining order against you."

"I know, I know, and I'm fucking sorry about that Kurt. It won't happen again," apologized Noah, stepping forward before saying the things he'd been wanting to get out. "Kurt, look, I came here to tell you that I can't go back to just being your friend. Sure us hanging out at the Padova, Central Park, Mangia and anywhere else were good for a time and we had fun, but after everything at my place, how can you honestly go back to seeing me as your friendly billionaire buddy, treating me like all your other friends when you know you feel more for me than you do them? You can't Kurt. You can'-"

"Sure I can Noah, and I was doing a pretty good job of it too before you came along and reminded me of how insatiable you are," argued Kurt, placing his hands on his hips as he eyed Noah critically, the man looking down at him with a frown. "By the looks of it, the only one who's not moving on is you. You're the one who can't go back to seeing me as anything less than a lover. You're the one with the problem. In fact, I might have stayed in New York if you weren't so unpredictable. Who knows how many Noah Puckerman shaped holes I would have had in my apartment door by now."

"Jesus, how can you be so fucking pessimistic about this, Kurt?!"

"It's not pessimism Noah, I'm telling you how it is."

"'How it is' sounds like you don't you have any feelings for me at all."

"I do, but I will never act on them. God Noah, I thought we'd covered this. I don't want to have the same conversation again; it was painful the first time."

"Well I'm sorry if what we have now isn't enough for me," retorted Noah angrily as he took another step forward towards Kurt. "Trust me, for the past few days I've done everything I can just to get your face, your eyes and your perfect pink lips out of my fucking mind. I've studied my brains out, I've been working out longer hours in the gym, I even went to the Hamptons with the family, but no, you're there, you're face is always there, always taunting me with something I can't have and I'm not prepared to suffer like this anymore. Either we're together or we're nothing."

"And you really have no idea which option is for the best?! You go to Harvard freaking University for Christ's sake!" exclaimed Kurt as he threw his hands up wildly into the air, wincing as he felt a headache coming along. "Noah, just listen to yourself. Think of what you're asking me to do. You want us back together but I've said no, and I'll continue to say no until you learn to accept that. You're just giving off the impression that you're a stubborn and spoilt brat that won't be told, who doesn't care who he hurts to get his way, not even his fiancée. Noah, you're allowing your marriage to fail before it's even begun."

"Don't talk about Quinn and I like it's you and me, Kurt. I want to talk about us."

"There is no 'us'! That's the whole point!" shouted Kurt as he fled into the living room, Noah following hot on his tail as the model turned around with a hand to his throbbing head and another to his stomach, his eyes closed as he breathing labored. He just couldn't do this. "Why won't you get it through your head, Noah?! You can't pursue me wherever I go like some emotionally crazed hunter and expect me to jump back into your arms. I came here to get away from all this and now thanks to you, all of this has come here! You have no right... you... you can't keep doing this to me... please... just stop."

"Kurt, calm down, take it easy," replied Noah hastily as he rushed on over to the boy before taking a hold of both Kurt's pale hands, bringing them up to his chest, and allowing the boy to lean his weak body on him, all of his weight, everything on him. Exactly what Noah wanted. Having Kurt in his arms once more, it was like a being able to breathe properly again. "Listen to what I have to say, that's all I ask... please, baby. Just listen to me and then I'll go, I'll leave you in peace and I promise I'll never smash your door down ever again... and if I do, I'll give you my credit card and you can go nuts."

"In Home Depot to buy a new door? More like you'll be doing that for me whislt I take your credit card out for a real shopping spree along fifth avenue."

"Fine, whatever, just... look Kurt, I know what you're thinking. Why did I let things get this far without talking about this? Why did I dance with you? Why did I even kiss you."

"Why did you?"

"Because I couldn't not kiss you, not dance with you, not see you," replied Noah honestly as Kurt lifted his eyes to witness the sheer amount of feeling dripping like a cascade from the man's hazel orbs. "Believe me Kurt, this whole thing has been crazier for me than the time I went on the Kingda Ka at the Six Flags Great Adventure park. I don't mean to hurt Quinn and yes, I do have morals before you ask, but treasures like you come and go so quickly that it would have been stupid of me not to pursue you. That's why I'm here Kurt, its why I've always been here."

Kurt couldn't help but look back at Noah in gratitude, gratitude that the man was holding his weight and preventing him from falling to the ground in a pleasant fainting fit of schoolgirl proportions. What he'd just heard had had to be the most romantic thing he'd ever heard. So truthful, so honest, but he didn't dare show it. If Noah got on that he had nearly cracked him, it would give the man the courage to go further and Kurt didn't think he'd have enough energy to put up with another round of the battle. Noah had proven in the past to be quite willful when it came to persuasion, a useful tool in the business world, but in Kurt's house and at midnight, it was just emotionally draining. He looked away to face Mercedes who was still glowering at Puck from the living room doorway and briefly smiled at her.

"'Cedes, do you mind if Noah and I go to my room? This is kind of private," explained Kurt, looking over at his friend as she leaned on the living room archway, watching them carefully, her eyes glaring at Noah. It was evident she didn't trust the man with her boy, but it looked as if they worn each other out by this stage. Neither one of them looked like they were going to jump each other's bones in the privacy of a bedroom, and so with a prompt nod, Mercedes peeled away from her position before disappearing into the foyer, recovering the now cold glasses of milk and returning them to the kitchen.

Pulling himself away from Noah's chiseled chest once the muscles in his body had awakened with a sharp pinch, Kurt lead the way out of the living room, across the hallway and towards his basement bedroom. As they traveled, Noah now began to take in his surroundings. The Hummel home was a quaint yet large looking house of traditional American architecture. It had been tastefully decorated to create a very homey atmosphere and there was a distinct smell of potpourri in the air, the fragrance of summer all around. It was the kind of place Noah wished he could have been raised in. The modern almost metallic like worlds of Washington D.C. and New York just didn't do it for him as a child.

Following Kurt down into his basement bedroom, which Noah found really neat, he watched as the model made his way through the white, colorless bedroom, across to his couch at the foot of the bed, and sat on it, eying Puck with an expectant gaze. However, Noah's eyes were already preoccupied as he stepped down the last few steps before admiring Kurt's childhood room. There was a four-poster bed towards on the opposite wall, flanked by two glass end tables. To the side, the entire right wall was lined with inbuilt wardrobes and on the other side stood a vanity desk, its surface strewn with neatly arranged cosmetics, skincare and hair care products. In the center of the room stood a low glass coffee table with the couch and two armchairs surrounding it, upon a wide fluffy white carpet lying underneath.

The room didn't look as if a teenage boy had lived in here for four years. There were no band posters, no clothes scattered every which way across the floor and in Kurt's case, no pictures of male actors or models stuck to his walls, but then again, Kurt was an exception. A very bonnie exception. As Noah continued to take everything in, Kurt sighed before picking himself up from his perch on the couch and made his way over to his iHome at his study desk. There he fiddled with it until the ethereal melody of an orchestra began to play, the notes flowing out through the in built ceiling speakers. He returned to the couch, noticing Noah's eyes on him as the sound of an angelic voice began to sing along with the instrumentation.

"Aníron by Enya, Noah. She's singing in Sindarin, the fictional language created by J.R.R. Tolkien."

"Tolkien as in the author to The Lord of the Rings?"

"The very same. Some people count sheep, wear sleep masks, read 19th century novels or even bash themselves over the head to force themselves into unconsciousness but this relaxes me every time."

"Hey, I don't want you falling asleep on me."

"Then you'd better start talking then, hadn't you."

"Well I... hey, wait a minute... isn't this a love song? Last time I saw the films; this was the love theme, wasn't it?" asked Noah, Kurt's eyes snapping open as he the man before him began to creep towards him, ever so slowly, but focus still in the air, still trained on the speakers. It was true. Despite the tune's soothing nature, there was a romantic air about it. It truly was beautiful and although Noah didn't understand what the woman was singing about, it didn't take any of the passion away from the music. So strikingly calming, washing over them both like the sea.

"Well the song does mean I desire, so I suppose so yes," replied Kurt guardedly as he lifted himself from the couch onto its back until he found himself sitting at the foot of the bed, Noah's approaching figure coming ever closer. He hated it when he didn't think things through. This song choice, thanks to its affectionate undertones, was working against him. He'd listened to it so many times that he'd solely focused on the melody, not thinking twice as to what the song was about since he didn't speak the secondary Middle-Earth language of the immortal Elves in the novels. "It was used for Aragorn and Arwen."

Stopping right in front of him, Noah eyed Kurt on the bed, the soft concoction of both the moon's rays and the room's ambient lighting complimenting the boy's doll-like features. It was now or never. The man had to prove to Kurt how much he meant to him. The song was right, the lighting was right and the house's strange seductive scent was everywhere in the air. So without hesitation, Noah gave into temptation, leaned down and crashed his lips onto Kurt's as the model was knocked back onto the bed from the force. There Noah blindly climbed over the couch and onto the bed, settling on top of Kurt as the boy wrapped his arms around his thick neck, deepening the kiss with every move.

"Come back," whispered Noah as he shifted his lips to Kurt's ear, his breath flowing through the boy's chocolate locks and down his soft throat as Kurt closed his eyes. Noah was never going to get over Kurt. Every time they'd part, he'd always search the ends of the earth for him, to bring him back into his arms. He knew Kurt would always melt in his strong arms meant to hold only him. He knew this, and as the boy's body began to surrender completely to its lost lover above, Noah began both their descents into the moment, claiming what he himself desired. Kurt. "Come back to me..."

_I know that we probably shouldn't do this, wake up in the morning feeling stupid_  
_Said that we were done but you're all up on me, said that we were done but you're all up on me_  
_Tell me how we got in this position, guess I got to get you out my system_  
_Trying to let you go but it's not that easy, trying to let you go but it's not that easy..._


	15. A Lustful Liaison

"No!" Cried out Kurt, bringing his hands up to Noah's chest and pushing with all his might against the impenetrable force lowering itself on top of him. The music had since died and so had his lapse in judgement, but it seemed as though he was the only one sane enough to acknowledge that what he and Noah were doing was wrong, and he was not going to continue to do wrong. Sliding himself from under Noah's traveling lips, Kurt leapt off the bed, his breath coming out in short pants. "I'm not coming back to you Noah! I told you I want out on all of this! I told you no! No! No! No!"

"I know what you said, Kurt!" Retorted Noah, hopping off the bed and walking over to the retreating boy, Kurt stumbling back towards one of his center room armchairs as the man approached him. Men were more susceptible to aggressive forms of behavior after rejection and for Kurt, he didn't know if Noah would be able to retrain his frustration. "We've already kissed Kurt! I've already held you in my fucking arms and kissed you on the lips, so no matter how many times you deny me whilst acting as if you're this wholesome little prude always wanting to do right, you'll never be able to undo what we did!"

"I can prevent it from becoming worse!" Shouted Kurt, dashing over to a pile of high school textbooks propped up against the foot of his vanity. He'd been planning to return them to McKinley tomorrow, but as he began to pile them into his arms like ammo, who knew if they would be returned in good condition. "And how dare you throw that in my face! Noah, you have no right to make me feel guilty! You're the one who initiated all of this and I was the one decent enough to end it but since you won't see sense I'm going to have to approach this new ending in the only way you'll understand!"

"Kurt, no!" Barked Noah, jumping out of the way as Kurt threw the first book. It was a lousy throw as it landed at the foot of the bed, hitting the ground with a noisy thud, but it put across the message to Noah that Kurt was not going to back down without a fight, or moreover a bombardment of American History text books. As a result, he could only dodge the book shaped missiles hurtling towards him, each one increasing in size and velocity with the lastest one nearly skimming his shoulder. "Quit it, Kurt! Stop throwing books at me!"

"Was this your idea of a talk?! Was that little speech up there a ruse to get me into bed?! To spread apart my thighs for you?!"

"Kurt, will you just-"

"Who do you think I am, Noah?! Another fainting model?! Thinking you can make me lose control with a kiss!? You're delusional!"

"Stop this shit right now!" Roared Noah, storming his way towards Kurt only to have the side of his head violently hit by a large dictionary. Crying out in pain, the man stumbled backwards, his hand darting up to his head as he shielded it from further attack. The cover corner of the book had as well unfortunately struck him above the eye and as he raised his head to Kurt, he expected the boy to rush on over to him, to inspect his injury in worry and to let out a stream of apologies for what he'd done, but no such thing came. Kurt was unmoving. Furious. "What the hell, Kurt?! What the fuck?!"

"It's all you, Noah! I knew meeting you was a mistake!" Argued Kurt, his anger rising as his eyes turned the shade of darkening fire. The boy's ammo of books had ended but Noah could only freeze from rubbing his injured head as he winced from the harshness in Kurt's words. "Against my better judgement I tried to be nice, get to know the real you and ignore the crap everyone was saying about your life! I really did! Yet here you are! Willing to undo the foundation of our friendship just because you're now thinking with your penis! Do you really want that to happen?! Well?! Do you?!"

"No."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm... damn it, I-"

"Noah, are you trying to chase me away?"

"No, Kurt I would never do that," urged Noah, clearing his throat as he felt the air around him thicken, as if it were too dense to breathe in. It was getting harder and harder to stand, his dizzy head almost leading him to faint to the ground, but he knew it was all him. Everything around him was fine, including the air. It was all down to Kurt's words and how they had cut him deeply inside. Branding their first meeting as a 'mistake' was a drop kick to the heart, a hard one that had him gasping for air in the wake of icy blue eyes. "Please... I bless the day I met you, Kurt. Don't ever say you regretted it."

"How can I not, Noah? It's as if all this time, you've had an ulterior motive and now that things are no longer going your way, you decide to hunt me down and force yourself on me. How can I not run away from you?" asked Kurt desperately in exasperation of it all. Noah's hope may be bleeding profusely, but his final word was going to kill him. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now Mr. Puckerman, but this time, for good. You've proven to us both that friendship simply isn't enough for you and the risk of anything happening is too great if we ever see each other again. I hope you understand."

"No... no, Kurt," muttered Noah, his voice trembling as he shook his head in determination, his eyes now staring at the ground in a fleeting attempt to hide the growing tears that were now brimming in his hazel eyes. Kurt had dared to utter the words of a cold-hearted farewell and a forever goodbye, soured even more when he'd called him by the name Noah detested. The boy knew referring to him as such was just salt on the wound, but no, not even that was going to defeat Noah. Kurt was his. His. "Like you said back in New York Kurt, this isn't the end. Not by a long shot."

"My God, you're insufferable! How many objects am I going to have to throw your way for it to sink into that head of yours?! Forget what I said! I don't want you! We're over!" Shouted Kurt as he threw his hands up wildly in the air, his eyes catching sight of his school folders by his desk. Dashing over to them, he picked them up but before he could even think of throwing them, Noah had strode over to him, violently knocked them out of his hand and sent the binders smashing against the wall. There they clattered noisily to the floor in the wake of his now shaking arms.

Kurt began to panic. Noah was mere inches from him, trapping him against the wall, staring at him with a mixture of extreme contempt and desperation, his eyes raging fury as his fists clenched dangerously.  _I've gone too far,_  thought Kurt as he shifted his gave from the man's anger stricken face to his bedroom door.  _Mercedes, I need you!_ Knowing that his best friend couldn't hear his silent pleas for help, Kurt made a run for it, shoving Noah out of the way as he pelted towards the basement stairs. Yet as he reached the first step, thick arms wrapped around his waist and hoisted him back against a broad chest.

"Let me go!" Cried out Kurt, squirming as Noah pulled him over to the bed before shoving him roughly onto it. Joining him, the man hastily loomed over Kurt on all fours as he forced him onto the soft white quilt with his weight, trapping him in his own bed. The boy's voice his only weapon, but even Kurt's screams of protest and his squirms for escape were unfortunately all in vain, as with each struggle, Noah's tight hold on his wrists tightened exponentially, entrapping him even further. "Don't! Touch! Me! Noah, get off! Is this how you treat Quinn?! Is this how you treat your whores?!"

"Shut up!" Roared Noah as he pinned Kurt deeper into the bed, his face mere centimeters from the boy's as Kurt thrashed his head from side to side in a desperate attempt to flee. The boy feared a hand clamped mouth, the tearing of underwear, rape. Yet as Noah grew sick of Kurt's incessant writhing, he pressed his body even harder against the boy's and almost strangled Kurt's wrists whilst doing so, causing a yelp of agonizing pain to shoot through the room. "I didn't fly all the way over here, fight through your front door and put up with your attacks just to be turned away like trash, Kurt! You'll show me it was all worth my while!"

"Ow! Noah, you're hurting me!"

"I'm never saying goodbye, Kurt! You're mine!"

"No Noah, please!"

"All m-mine... oh God.."

"Argh! Please stop! Pleas-" Kurt's pleas were abruptly cut short as he took in the sight above him. It was heart-wrenching, a sight that had him forgetting about everything that had just happened, had his soul crying out for his oppressor, for Noah Puckerman was weeping before him. The man's eyes had softened greatly from intense rage to overwhelming sadness as he discovered from his haze, the angel of his affections being manhandled by the last person he ever thought would, himself. The horrific realization hit him like a chest crushing weight, and as his tear drops began to ever more quickly roll down his tanned cheeks like droplets of guilt, his lips quivered uncontrollably.

"I-I'm sorry Kurt!" wept Noah, as with a final look at the pained face of his boy, he burst into a heart wrenching sob. He sank his head into Kurt's neck, reveling in the boy's warmth as he released Kurt's reddening wrists, Noah's bawling voice slightly muffled as he collapsed in despair. "I'm s-so fucking sorry! I n-never meant to hurt y-you like this! God... I-I'm so fucked up... a-all I do is f-fuck everything up! I've g-got you like this s-so you won't leave m-me... I mean... damn i-it Kurt, please don't l-leave me... you just c-can't... hate me as m-much as you want b-but please... don't leave m-me."

Kurt didn't say anything for the first few seconds, nor did he even move a muscle as he began to register what was happening. The warm stains of Noah's tears were sinking into his shoulder and seeping down into his pillow below, but he didn't care. Here was a man, a strong man who had presented nothing but overruling confidence, a masculine backbone and a fearlessness for anything, breaking down like a pile of rubble on top of him, a now crumbling man whose faith in a shattering world was sinking into the darkness of sadness itself, and even though Noah was displaying extremely unhealthy signs of co-dependency, Kurt knew that he would be the only antidote.

"It's okay Noah, it's alright, I'm here," soothed Kurt, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position as Noah continued to bawl copiously into his shoulder. Kurt would never abandon a friend in need. He'd do it for anyone he cared about, and he wasn't going to go anywhere, even if he wanted to, considering he had a six-foot hunk of man on top of him. However, he did manage to shush Noah as he made to speak, or moreover blubber through his fountain of tears. "Shh, don't say anything. Words aren't needed for me to even begin to understand what you're going through."

"T-that's because you get m-me, Kurt," stuttered Noah as he raised his head once again to peer up at Kurt, his eyes red rimmed, exhausted but above all, distressed beyond belief as they attempted to convey in a single look, the sorrow that he had brought down on everyone tonight. Kurt was an angel. Here the boy was, stroking his back soothingly as if Noah had just fallen from his bike, but for Kurt, it was different. He was ashamed of how he'd threatened to cut Noah out of his life. All because he couldn't understand the man's impassioned need for him. Now he knew. "I'm leaving her, Kurt."

"What?"

"I'm leaving Quinn. I'll leave her for you."

"No Noah, you can't do that."

"Why not? I'll tell my mom I can't go through with it and that I've found someone else."

"And what? You'll introduce me as the same person you were cheating with behind your fiancée's back, the same person you embarrassed Quinn with at the ball with and finally, a person who happens to be a  _boy_?" asked Kurt incredulously, Noah peeling himself from Kurt's chest as the boy raised himself into a sitting position, his eyes once again wide and his voice alert with disbelief. "What is she going to think, Noah? She's not going to approve of any of it. She's going to cut you off for sure... unless she already knows you're-"

"She doesn't know Kurt. At best she'd have an idea, but only if she'd raised me up herself instead of dumping me with Anita when I was a kid," replied Noah as he joined Kurt in a sitting position on the bed, their legs now hanging off the side with their shoulders touching as Kurt looked on over back at him with sympathetic eyes. No, Noah hadn't come out to his mom. It hadn't been that long ago when he'd come out to Kurt or even to himself, and he was still digesting the ostrich egg sized realization pill, but no, no one else knew. "She's not going to disown me or anything."

"But-"

"Listen Kurt, my mom only wanted me to stop 'fooling around as a boner on legs' and for me to actually enter a relationship."

"With a girl in mind, Noah."

"Fuck's sake Kurt, she's not going to care if you're a dude. You're still human."

"You mean to tell me you're certain that your mom won't hold any reservations against you for being with a boy?" inquired Kurt incredulously as Noah shook his head confidently. Emily Puckerman, a veteran beauty queen, had met her fair share of gay men whilst on route for every single crown and cash prize out there. They had been her secret force, aiding her quest for empress like stature in the business, but of this, Kurt didn't know much about. He admittedly in the first place didn't know a lot of Noah's mother let alone her long reign in the pageantry circuit. "Noah, how can you be so sure?"

"Kurt, I'm telling you, she's not going to care. If anything, she's going to prefer you to Quinn. She's always thought being gay was exotic," chuckled Noah as Kurt smiled back at him, a blush forming his cheeks. "Once she sees how crazy I am for you, she'll brake off the engagement to allow us to be together. I'll be able to take you on romantic carriage rides through Central Park, kiss you in the middle of the Rockefeller Ice Rink at Christmas, and rock your world in my hot tub at dusk, all without having to fear about being caught or feeling guilty. What do you think Kurt? Sounds good, huh?"

"It does... oh what the hell; if you're sure Noah then I guess there's no harm in trying. I mean you know your mother better than I do... wait here," replied Kurt holding up a finger as he jumped off the bed and ran into his bathroom, coming out shortly after with a blue ice pack in his hands. Noah watched on as the boy eyed his head for the injury before placing the pack ever so gently onto the bruised skin, his hands making quick work of layering it on. Bringing his hand up to secure it in place, Noah sighed in thanks as Kurt eyed him with worry. "It should ease the swelling... oh you poor baby. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, it doesn't hurt as much now, but thanks... babe?" uttered Noah nervously as his voice fell a few notches at the slip. He didn't want to appear too eager, especially after everything that had just happened, but after Kurt had consented to let Emily in on their little thing, he couldn't help but shoot for the stars. As for Kurt, the boy giggled upon catching the hopeful gleam in Noah's eyes before leaning down, removing the ice pack from the man's head and feathering a light kiss to the now cold bruise, his lips tickling the dark fuzz of Noah's buzz cut as the man chuckled in delight. "Thanks babe."

"Now Noah, even if you plan to end things with Quinn, you're still with her, meaning nothing can happen now. No kissing, no rocking anyone's world, nothing of that nature. We're just friends until your engagement is off. Do you think you can hold out till then?" asked Kurt softly, his blue eyes widening as Noah removed the ice pack from his head before taking Kurt's pale hands in his. There he kissed them tenderly, placing the pack onto Kurt's reddened wrists as the chill began to dull away the heat of where Noah's hands had once been. It felt good. "Thank you, Noah."

There they sat together, Noah's arm wrapped around Kurt's lower back with the boy's head resting in the nook of his neck as they both stared out in front of them, the light soft and golden hued. However, remembering Noah's recent crying fit, Kurt shifted the pack off one wrist before leaning over to his end table and extracting with one hand, a box of tissues from the draw. Pulling out three of the white disposable papers, he returned the box on top of the table, but froze as he turned around to see Noah shirtless, facing him with a nervous smile. Kurt lightly gasped at both little time it had taken for Noah to remove his shirt, as well as the muscle masterpiece displayed as proudly before him as a carved statue of the ancient world.

"Noah, I-I said-"

"I know what you said Kurt, but I can't just lay my eyes on you."

"Sure you can Noah, it's easy. You're doing it right now."

"It's not enough. Here you are on your bed looking fucking hot. It's human nature, baby."

"N-Noah... you... I think you've gone delirious from that hit to the head. Either that or that bruise of yours really does have a mind of its own," babbled Kurt, allowing himself without a fight or a single hint of restraint to be laid back onto the bed as Noah took control. The boy at this point was merely putty in Noah's large hands, his body molding itself into whatever position the man wanted him in and as Noah smiled amorously back at him, the man placed a soft kiss to his lips. "Are you really fit to do this? You were just torpedoed with schoolbooks and bawled into my shoulders. You haven't even properly dried your eyes."

"Fuck that Kurt, I want you to see the real me. Tear stained face and all, just please, let me have you," begged Noah as he hovered his face above Kurt's, eventually resting his forehead against the boy's as they closed their eyes. It was ever so romantic, moments Kurt could die a thousand times over for and as the boy pulled Noah down into a desperate kiss, his heart melted. Being intimate with Noah had once been his guilty pleasure, his moans like sonic candy and his muscled lover's like guttural groans of pleasure itself. Fuck, it felt so good, too good not to do, so good. Them. Together.

As items of clothing were shed one by one, their forms fluttering across the bed and onto the ground below, Noah and Kurt kissed each other as if it were the end of time. The man's straining jeans and Kurt's mink colored pajama silk top were soon the only pieces of apparel left as they writhed on the bed, christening it with their affection. Both of them had missed and longed for each other's touch since that frightful day in Noah's penthouse. The distance and loss of one another had been palpable but now that they were here together in Kurt's room, they were free to express themselves in the only way they wanted.

His lips still caressing Kurt's sweet mouth, Noah removed his hands from the boy's pale torso and began to unbuckle his belt, his hands fumbling over the metal as his fingers struggled to make quick work of removal. He kicked off his boots, ripped off his jeans and left himself to the sole feel of his boxers, the only thing left, just thin white material fit to burst. Sensing Noah pulling away from the kiss, Kurt eyed the man above him. Due to the low lighting, it was difficult to see Noah's muscled physique in full clarity, but there was enough visibility to catch sight of his sculpted chest adorned with dark fuzzy chest hair, protruding abs and manpower boasting looking arms and thighs.

"What is it, Noah? Is there something wrong?"

"I'm just so used to seeing..."

"What?"

"Tits, you know... boobs."

"Oh... well of course you are Noah. This is your first time with another guy, isn't it?" asked Kurt as Noah nodded in confirmation, his eyes now shy and tense. To him, Kurt was beautiful, and that included his flat chest. It had thrown him at first but not for long. In fact, he was growing obsessively attached to it almost immediately. He was entranced. How Kurt had taken hold of his hand before placing it down upon on his pale torso, guiding it along and stroking every inch of his fair skin as if to further ease Noah into the idea of touching another boy. Yet no easing had to be done. Noah was already hot for it.

"Your touch makes me feel... electric," complimented Kurt as Noah reveled in the feeling of the softest skin he'd ever felt in a long time, beating out all the moisturizer fanatic women he'd bedded in the past. None could light a candle to Kurt's flesh, or his skillful hand as the other landed on Noah's chest, before slowly making its way down until it stopped at his boxers. Noah's breath caught in his throat. His heart was beating out of rhythm, it's tune screaming in pent up excitement. There was just an exhilarating spark in Kurt's touch he couldn't describe that-  _Oh God!_

"Wow... you're a big boy," moaned Kurt alluringly as his hand slithered into Noah's boxers before massaging the impressive manhood within, expertly recreating what he did to himself, stroking it with a gentle yet firm touch that had Noah gasping in surprise but above all, pleasure. He couldn't help his hazel eyes fluttering as Kurt increased the friction. He couldn't help the bead of sweat that fell from his forehead, biting his full lips in the wake of such stimulation as Kurt encircled his hose in his hand, giving it a teasing twist of the wrist towards the end of every stroke. "You like that, stud?"

"Argh Kurt, you are g-good... sweet Christ, you are good... where the hell did yo- oh my God!" Exclaimed Noah as Kurt released the man's hand he'd been tracing along his chest before plunging his now free one into Noah's boxers. There, he began to caress Noah's balls, every twist and turn falling into perfect sync, with the other hand above on the shaft, the two massacring Noah's senses into oblivion. Yes, Kurt Hummel was reducing Noah Puckerman to a mess, a panting, moaning and gasping mess and all he was doing was moving his hands in small motions, but at the right times and at the place.

"Jesus, Kurt… I'm close… I'm… gonna... gonna! My God, babe…" warned Noah as Kurt was snapped out from the own pleasure to the sight of Noah dunking his hands into the bed and fisting the white duvet, clutching it tightly in his hand as the advancing orgasm grew ever closer, ever closer, ready to erupt at any second. However, in the midst of the impending arrival, Kurt grabbed hold of Noah's hand and brought it down on his own erection, it's form made clear through the white lace briefs. Looking down, it took time for Noah to realize what Kurt expected him to do, before he tensed nervously.

"You want me to… I mean you want me… to," stuttered Noah as his sight readjusted from their previously rolled back position to focus on what was being non-verbally asked of him. Like Kurt's flat chest, beating another guy off was new territory and subsequently, nerve-wracking. He was still excited by the prospect, the idea was a major turn on, and he just feared that as soon as he'd attempt a go, he'd chafe poor Kurt until there was nothing left. He had no experience, but then neither did Kurt.  _Wait; was this Kurt's first time at this? Talk about being a natural._

"Noah, rip open my briefs."

"What?"

"Rip them open, and don't go easy on the lace."

"Are you sure? They look pretty expensi-"

"Do it," ordered Kurt as he fixed Noah with a commanding eye, leaving the man thoroughly taken aback at his forwardness. Kurt was turned on and he didn't have time for pauses in the passion. He wanted to get off with Noah and the main course could only start once underwear was out of the picture. Smirking at the lust in the boy's eyes, Noah took a hold of the briefs; a firm grip full in his hands and with a loud rip that had both their libidos catapulting once again, the hunk ripped open Kurt's lace delicates before allowing the boy to pull him down on top of him. "That was  _so_  sexy Noah, you have no idea."

"But didn't you want me to-"

"Noah, you think I want to receive a hand job from an awkward looking guy who doesn't know what he's doing? I only wanted to know how you'd react. Just give it time," giggled Kurt seductively as he positioned his hips so that they lay directly below those of Noah's before wrapping his smooth legs around the man's waist, his thighs resting on Noah's. There he brought their shafts crashing against one another in a near orgasmic explosion of euphoria as the effects had them both teetering on the edge. "That's it Noah. We're going to do something that we're both going to enjoy!"

"Shit!" cried out Noah as he experienced the new wave like feeling that was totally different yet totally awesome. The angle Kurt had positioned him in had his manhood coated in every type of pleasant friction known to sex. Who knew what he was missing out on all this time? Kurt, meanwhile, had since thrown his head back as Noah's shaft had met his whilst chanting the Christian deity's name more times than a priest. He'd never in his life frotted before, only read about it on the internet, but nothing compared to the real thing. "Fuck Kurt... this... this feels better than pussy."

"Well, come on then Noah. You've already used your guns to rip open my briefs. Use those hips of yours to fuck me. You know you want to," persuaded Kurt as Noah opened his eyes to look down at him. The man's skin was coated in a light sheen of sweat that aroused Kurt even more. Anything Noah could do could arouse him. He was Noah Puckerman. Yet to Noah, Kurt was just as sexy, if not more.  _When did he become so fucking sexy?!_ Thought Noah as he smirked his handsome grin before bucking up his hips like a stallion's and driving in for the massive, friction filled thrust.  _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

"Yes!" exclaimed Kurt loudly, his voice heavily dosed with hot breathe, almost baby like, weak from each thrust Noah was gifting him. Thrust! My God. Thrust! Fuck me. Thrust! Hot baby, do me! Noah wasted no time picking up in size as well as pace when it came to hammer against Kurt. It took all the will he had to force himself to open his eyes from the pleasure but to lay his lusty eyes on the mesmerizing sight that lay beneath him, it was worth it. Kurt's head was thrown back, his hands holding tightly to Noah's muscled arms for support, both of them giving off a scent; the scent of pure sex.

"Sweet Jesus…" cried out Noah as his thrusts increased in strength, power as well as everything else he had. He couldn't stop. His hips now had a mind of their own. They pumped mercilessly against Kurt like a well-oiled machine. Lowering his head, Noah captured Kurt's soft lips in a lustful kiss before trailing short nips and licks along his cheek and neck. He kissed the boy's ear before licking it, biting it lightly and eliciting a moan from below. "You feel so fucking goo- oh, oh, Kurt, fuck... fuck, fuck, Kurt… I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!"

"Give it to me Noah! Give me all you've got," begged Kurt, his voice thick with sex. To accompany the order, the boy raised his hips to meet Noah's crushing thrusts and with three more pumps, both of them climaxed, their seeds splattering onto Kurt's sweat dripping torso. Noah let out a deafening growl of pleasure, biting hard on his lip as Kurt moaned and panted in response. The boy's spent body was still being gently rocked as Noah continued thrusting slowly, riding out both of their orgasms as they shivered in pure bliss. "Sex is amazing! Sex is fucking amazing! Do other people know about this? Woo!"

"Woah, easy cowboy."

"You Kurt... you are the best."

"You weren't half bad yourself."

"No Kurt, you  _are_  the best. Best dry sex ever!"

"First of all Noah, I aim to please and second of all, there's nothing dry about it. I mean look at me, look at my stomach. I have been properly creamed," replied Kurt with a smile, Noah shifting himself off the boy as Kurt gestured down to his gleaming sex juiced covered torso, the pale skin coated in the warm liquid, happy and contented. Both their hearts were simmering down from the exhilarating act they'd just performed in but their breaths were still strained, still slightly frantic as they felt the sweat travel across their skin, racing to cool them down before they heated up again. "Wow, I'm spent."

"After we catch our breaths, can we do it again? Puckzilla down here wants to do it again," pleaded Noah as he brought the white quilt up to their waists, his hand stroking Kurt's neck as he looked down at his already hardening crotch. It had softened slightly since the end but had already climbed to full mast with the chance for another session. Oh the idea of fucking Kurt again. It was enough to further cream the boy again. However, as he took in Kurt's questioning expression as to who or what 'Puckzilla' was, Noah explained. "It's a nickname for my mister I made up back in high school."

"That's so cute. You named your thing."

"Kurt, he's not meant to be cute!"

"No, he's only responsible for having made my body scream."

"And don't you forget it, babe."

"Oh, I assure you I won't. Well, as much as this liquid love is great to have on me, I better wash it off," sighed Kurt, shifting his eyes from Noah's satisfied smirk and monster Puckzilla to his come covered chest and torso. The liquid was by this point starting to cool but as Kurt threw off the quilt to move off the bed, his senses picked up a damp feeling from underneath. It was not so much cold as it was cool and as he looked down, Kurt noticed his sweat drenched sheets that both he and Noah had no doubt created from their furious romp. "Wow, we really went at it like dogs didn't we."

"Yeah, but it's hot. Fucking like canines always is," chuckled Noah, Kurt rolling his eyes as a smile betrayed his lips. As the boy slid off the bed before all but speed walking into the en suite bathroom on the opposite end of the room so as to not allow a single stop of cum to land on his carpet, Noah lay his head back down, his arms behind his head before freeing his thoughts to reign on the sexual activity he'd just taken part in. He hadn't been kidding when he had claimed that that session of lust had been the best sex he'd ever had. His body had had a taster, and it was drooling for more. "Fuck..."

Noah had to admit that even though Kurt had accused him earlier during their fight of solely coming over to sleep with him, the idea had never crossed his mind. He'd merely wanted to see Kurt, to talk to him, maybe sneak in a good making out session whilst he was at it, but never sex. He'd reserved such an act for further on down the line if he'd succeeded tonight, and by God, had he succeeded tonight. He'd scored with Kurt Hummel. He'd ripped open the briefs to the hottest model in town and had scored the winning touchdown. Scratch his sophomore win; this was now his personal best.

As for Kurt, Noah had been blown away by the boy's sexual confidence. True, kissing him had only got better since Kurt had learned rather quickly in the area, knowing exactly what angle to tilt his head at, how much pressure to exude and how to effectively manoeuvre his tongue to optimal effect and pleasure, but the confidence. Oh, the confidence had been such a major turn on _._ Moaning, Noah's manhood twitched excitedly at the idea of having those now talented lips further down south. However, his daydreaming ceased as the bathroom door opened to reveal Kurt in front of a cloud of steam.

"You know, it's so lonesome when I'm in this shower all by my naked little self," complained Kurt playfully, hiding half his body behind the door and allowing the other half to show itself before Noah in all its glory. The golden hue within the en suite streamed into the room, as if from Noah's view, he were staring at a portal right into a Roman bathhouse, Kurt an erotic bather God, enticing him into the water. At this point, Noah would do whatever Kurt asked of him. Anything. "Oh I just don't know what I'll do. Do you think you could help me, mister sir? I'll do anything you want… absolutely… anything."

Raising his visible leg, Kurt allowed his foot to stroke the white wood paneling of the door, smiling lustfully, his head tilted backwards as if the idea of being fucked repeatedly by Noah was a heaven to end all heavens. Bringing his sight back to his lover, Kurt's eyes widened in surprise before he squealed in delight, running back into the bathroom as a naked Noah all but leapt out of the bed and raced towards him, his hazel eyes hungry, ravished, his tongue hanging out like a dog's, panting for angel food sex. And there Noah entered, locking the door firmly behind him, Kurt's soft cries following soon after.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

As the clock on the Hummel kitchen wall struck ten am, the room found Kurt, Mercedes and Burt sitting at the breakfast table munching away on their morning food. Kurt had in front of him a bowl of sweet oatmeal, with a small plate of grapes and a ripe banana alongside him. Mercedes had cradled in her hands a mug of strong coffee, which she had already filled twice already, and finally Burt was reading the morning paper, a plate of half-eaten toast next to his tea. No one was saying anything. Everyone was content with sitting in peaceful silence whilst nibbling or sipping on whatever they had. It could be said that they simply weren't morning people, but Kurt knew that Mercedes' constant intakes of coffee were due to last night's events, coupled with an online shopping extravaganza that had gone on way too long into the night.

Contrary to Mercedes' groggy like attitude and somewhat accompanying appearance, Burt was humming lightly under his breath as he flipped page after page of the paper, his eyes skimming as his foot that he'd rested on his opposite knee bobbed up and down lightly in the wake of a man with a cheerful disposition. Kurt could only smile in response as he observed his father. He too should have been bearing a grin to expose pearly white teeth what with what had happened last night but like his best friend, he was exhausted. After he had lured Noah into his bathroom following their bedroom shenanigans, they had done it again, and again, and again, all night long. In the shower, on the counter tabletop, on his bedroom floor, the list when on. Not one inch of his room hadn't been a support for all the frot fucking that had been done.

Kurt really ought to have been starving. Noah's insatiable libido, which had reawakened to this new discovery in sex, had left him dry of energy. He also began to worry if he'd ever produce semen again after having come a total of six to seven times last night. More than he'd ever done in his whole life, but he guessed it was in the job description if you were to sleep with New York's sex shark like wildlife animals on the Savannah. In the end however, the sun had risen and the night's rompous activities had come to a stop. Kurt had only then warned Noah of Mercedes and his father, how they would castrate him before stapling his mangled ball sack to his forehead if they discovered him, a stranger in Kurt's bed, their debauched boy tangled in sweaty sheets with Noah's man milk all over his chest. Never a good first impression.

Noah had bolted soon after that, his tanned skin paling somewhat as Kurt had not skimped out on the results of being caught. They had already been at risk with the racket of the front door commotion, their midnight fight, the early morning fuck fest, and of course anything else they weren't aware of. Sneaking his way out the front door undetected, Noah had left before Mercedes had awoken from her sleeping perch on the couch. Burt had not appeared from his room, in fact, the morning paper rounds hadn't arrived by the time Noah had brought Kurt in for a deep farewell kiss, complete with tongue and topped with delicious moans that would have rendered even the sex gods themselves envious, before disappearing into Lima, no doubt to find refuge in some hotel. There he would no doubt stay until Kurt returned to New York.

"So Kurt," began Mercedes, taking a long swig from her mug as the boy turned to look at her, his thoughts of Noah snapping from his mind. No one had spoken for at least five whole minutes, so even Burt peered around his paper to eye her before resuming his attention to the interesting article he had been gazing over. However, despite Mercedes' light tone for a conversation starter, Kurt shifted nervously in his seat. There was a somewhat mischievous glint in her eye, as if she were about to begin something set to only make him squirm. "Did your 'friend' say all he had to say?"

"Mercedes, zip the lip," replied Kurt warningly, his blue eyes flashing dangerously as Mercedes shrugged innocently, getting up from the table to refill her mug by the counter. The diva was messing with him, and he wasn't in the mood. He'd no idea how his father would react to the news of Noah Puckerman having nearly knocked down his door to get to his only son and child, in what could only be described as a fit of unabashed desperation. Kurt predicted not good at all. "If you must know, yes he did. We had a long talk, he told me everything he had to say and now we're good."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Burt, setting aside his paper as Kurt flitted an anxious look in his father's direction. He didn't reply. Mercedes was too busy dunking a teaspoon in her mug to retract the topic of conversation or even to help him get out of it by starting a new one. It was obvious she didn't like Puckerman. Kurt wondered if she'd developed a bruise on her backside from last night because of Noah, or maybe she was mad at Kurt for having allowed the man into his room or even allowing him to stay in the house at all. Payback was a bitch. "Kurt? Did you meet up with any of your McKinley friends?"

"Well Burt, he's not so much from McKinley as he is from New York, and he's not so much a friend as he is a-"

"'Cedes, be quiet!"

"What Kurt? I think your dad would like to know who came by last night."

"No he doesn't, shut up!"

"What are you kids going on about? Who came by the house last night?" inquired Burt, leaning his elbows on the table as his eyes narrowed in concern. In response, Kurt could only send his friend a withering look as she proceeded to lean against the counter and sip casually at her coffee. Oh how how the boy wished to stick Mercedes' head in a vat of the stuff and watch her drown in it. He was drowning himself. He couldn't beat around the bush any longer, especially since Burt was now fixing him with an 'answer me now!' expression. Fuck. "Kurt? Son, tell me who came by. Was it someone you know?"

"Pfft, not just someone. Noah Puckerman."

"'Cedes!"

"Well Kurt, what did you think would happen with me here?"

"You're still here?! Really?! Because I had no idea!"

"Noah Puckerman? As in the son of Thomas Puckerman, the founder of the Puckerman Conglomerate? That Puckerman?" asked Burt surprised, his eyes blowing wide as Kurt nodded in confirmation. The Hummel household had many products designed by companies owned by the Puckerman's. The television set was made by a Japanese brand owned by the conglomerate. The Puckerman's owned even their bank. "Kurt, I know you told me that back in New York you've made some friends in high places, but Puckerman high places? I'm impressed. Give the guy kudos for good company management."

"Dad, he isn't running the company yet. He's still at college."

"Then why was he here last night? He didn't hear of you coming here and decide to... follow you... oh."

"Dad, it's not what you think."

"He's the guy, isn't he Kurt? The guy you're running away from."

"I'd really rather not talk about this, dad," muttered Kurt, sighing as he picked up his oatmeal bowl before placing it into the dishwasher. Returning his uneaten side plate of fruit to the bowl on the counter, Kurt moved solemnly around the kitchen, Mercedes looking on in guilt as she caught sight of how her friend's face seemed to sketch the word 'ashamed' across it's porcelain features. Kurt had gone through deep, traumatic times during his short time in New York and he didn't need her blabbing away to his father when it was his right to tell him. She felt awful. "May I be excused from the table?"

"No Kurt. I know you're hurting right now but I really do think it's time for us to talk. I need to know what went on in New York. I need to know what made that Puckerman boy feel the need to travel 530 miles to come all the way over here," replied Burt as Kurt turned to him. "Son, I'm your dad. I love you and I'm here for you. Yes, you keep me in the dark sometimes and yes, it gets to me, but when I sense it's serious, I want to know. All through High School, you've dealt with your own problems, and sometimes you wouldn't even tell Mercedes here. You've got to learn to let people in, to let me in Kurt."

"I will let you in dad, in time, but for now, I just have to murder my treacherous friend," replied Kurt calmly as he fixed Mercedes with a calm look that held within it a colder chill than a death glare. However, in her defense, if she'd left it up to Kurt, the boy most likely wouldn't have let Burt in on Noah until he on his deathbed. Back in high school, it had taken three months for Kurt to reveal his relationship with Blaine to Burt, all because he feared his father would not approve of the Dalton boy. Burt's approval meant everything to him. "Seriously though dad, give it time. Let me come to you, please?"

"Fine, all right Kurt. I'll leave it up to you, just... I don't know... don't get yourself into any more trouble, okay?" asked Burt as Kurt nodded with a smile, going over to his father and wrapping him up in an appreciative hug. Despite the finality in Kurt's tone, Burt still wished to pursue his argument, but the sweet face of his son battled his desire and he sighed in defeat. Incessantly pursuing the problem would only push Kurt further away and he could already feel his son coming ever closer to trusting him with all this. By the sounds of it, it was going to be one wild story. "Well I've finished here. I'll be in my study if you kids need me."

"Thanks for the extra large coffee batch Burt, I needed it," smiled Mercedes, Burt putting away his used dishes and cutlery as he threw the diva an according grin of his own. As the man waved back at them both before disappearance round the corner, his footsteps growing ever fainter until with a shut of a door they ceased, the kitchen once again resumed to it's quiet state. Kurt was staring out the window from the table, his aqua eyes unblinking and unmoving whilst Mercedes glanced back at him apologetically, her figure approaching as he turned to her. "I'm sorry boo; I didn't mean to be a bitch."

"It's alright 'Cedes. You've never been a morning person and I know you're still pissed at Noah after last night, but... I... God, I'm so tired," trailed Kurt, Mercedes nodding as she lifted Kurt to his feet before leading him back to his room, his head resting on her shoulder as she rubbed her hand up and down his lower back reassuringly. "... I just wish telling my dad about him wasn't so difficult. Why does it have to be? I mean, he knows of him now. I guess that's step one. It's just a case of letting him in on everything else... but that's just it. Everything else is 'you're grounded for a year' material."

"Okay Kurt, maybe your dad will go a little crazy when he hears certain parts, which is why you have to go to him at the right time. Tell him all about it after he's had a good meal or... I don't know, had a beer after Deadliest Catch," suggested Mercedes, opening the basement door to Kurt's bedroom and manoeuvring them in as they slowly descended the stairs one by one. "Or of course you could tell him just as you're about to board the plane so that by the time it really sinks in, you'll be sky high whilst he's shaking his fists up into the air."

"That's an idea... no, I don't think so. I'm going to man up and tell him face to face where I can't run and I can't hide... well maybe run," replied Kurt, Mercedes giggling as she directed the boy over to the one of the armchairs in the center of the room before opening the basement window. The fresh air from outside came gushing in as Kurt took in a deep breath of the stuff, allowing himself to sink even lower into the cream-colored chair. "Maybe if I include some of the stuff Noah and I discussed about last night, he'll go easier on me. We did settle some key issues we had."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you later. I just want to-"

"Wash your sheets?"

"What?"

"Your sheets, Kurt. They're all damp and your room is a tip. What the hell happened last night? Did you have a nightmare or something before you slept walked into everything in here?" inquired Mercedes as she shook her head at the condition of Kurt's room. Schoolbooks were all over the floor, some furniture pieces has been budged, folders and binders were scattered haphazardly near the wall and what had happened to the bed? The sheets were stained, the quilt strewn, a pillow on the floor. It all looked like a case of noctambulism. Either that or...  _they didn't!_  "Er Kurt, did you and Puckerman-"

"No 'Cedes! All Noah and I did was talk. I admit it took longer than I expected but that's all we did," gushed Kurt quickly as he snapped out of the frozen state he'd just entered. He'd spent so much time persuading Noah that there wasn't time for morning sex before bundling him out of the house that he hadn't had time to tidy up his tip of a room. He'd left the evidence of last night absolutely everywhere and now Mercedes was jumping to conclusions, eying everything before her with a knowing smile set forth to burst from her lips. "Why don't you get my laptop. We can surf the shopping sites if you want."

"If you like, but can we do it upstairs? I get the sense you and Noah did it literally everywhere in this room," replied Mercedes, shrugging before grinning as Kurt's mouth gaped open, his tongue trying to conjure something to say that would help him defend his 'just talking' lie. Yet, it was no use. Mercedes knew she'd guessed right and so all he could do was hide his blush as he stripped the bed, rearranged the furniture to it's former positions and picked up all his school supplies until the room resembled it's old pristine self. "Don't worry about it boo. I could smell the fornication as soon as I came in."

"No wonder you opened the window. Damn it, rookie mistake," sighed Kurt in frustration, ending the final touches to his room before bringing out a fresh bed set from his drawers and laying it down by the mattress. Offering to help him set everything up, Mercedes made work on the pillows as Kurt set the sheet, all the while attempting to ignore the looks the diva was throwing at him. Bedroom antics was one of the juiciest tit bits of gossip there was and the idea of her boy getting some at the hands of a burly billionaire. Oh, she couldn't resist. "For God's sake 'Cedes, just ask already."

"How was he?"

"It was the best sex of my life."

**.**

**Glee**

**_._ **

The next day, as six pm ticked it's way closer to existence, Kurt found himself in front of the Columbus Airport, his father and best friend before him in the midst of a shuffling crowd all around. Cars were arriving and departing, planes were landing or taking off, and the gentle if not slightly robotic like female voice of the announcer was letting everyone know each and every departure time. In some ways, it was all giving him a welcoming reminder of the busy streets of New York. He was happy to be returning. He missed New York. He missed his apartment, his friends, the modeling, everything. It only really proved that revisiting Lima had done him a world of good and while he would miss Burt along with the fact that Mercedes would soon be on the other side of the country in California, he believed it was time to resume his life.

As for Noah, Kurt had not seen ever since the night they had spent together. The man had texted Kurt his whereabouts to the local hotel in the center of town and Kurt had had to smile at the fact that Noah had had to go around the boy's hometown incognito, large shades and hunched appearance melting him right into the cow town that was Ohio's shit stain. Kurt at first had had to wonder why Noah had not fled the area in favor of flying home, but something in the way the man had seemed to breathe the country air more deeply offered a sense to Kurt that he hadn't been the only one naming this visit as somewhat of a retreat. And it was a retreat Kurt had treated it as such. He'd spent as much time with his father and Mercedes as possible, engaging in a whole range of activities that would no doubt occupy his mind during his flight.

However, one accomplishment Kurt could be proud of was the fact that he had finally come to talk to his father about everything that had happened in New York. No details had been skimped out and everything had been mentioned when both he and Burt had sat in the study for the talk, Mercedes having keenly pressed her ear to the door for any hint of a rising shout from the man. Kurt had to admit however, that it had not been easy. Especially when it had come to discuss how rude he had been at the Padova Pad. His father had shaken his head in shame, shocked that Kurt could have exhibited such behavior in front of so many people. It was quite unlike his son. However, his thoughts had soon changed at the mention of the Balencia Ball's events, what had happened in the penthouse, and everything else following.

In the end, Burt had done no more than laugh wholeheartedly and smile at the mention of either Kurt's lollipop stumble in Central Park or the way he'd nearly clocked a photographer in the shrubbery outside his apartment, or to grip his seat in near explosive like anger at the sound of the collection of names Anita had called him along with how Noah had seemed to take advantage of him, manipulating him like a pale puppet. Quite a roller coaster of a reaction if you asked Kurt, although the hug his father gave him at the end seemed to clinch it as the one of the best. Of course, the mention of what had gone in Kurt's bedroom a certain night had been scratched from the record, but replacing it with news of Noah approaching his mother on dating Kurt officially, did seem to appease Burt to some degree. It would solve the problem of infidelity.

Now, however, was the time to bid farewell to his family and to his friend. He was now accustomed to large places like airports without getting lost before stumbling upon broom closets where sounds of a certain nature seemed only to emanate loudly from, and he was always checking to bag to check whether he really did have his pepper spray at hand should anyone come along for a less then welcoming nature. He had laughed out loud when Burt had suggested using the device on Noah should he ever come to revert temporarily back to 'spoilt brat mode', but he had assured his father that a softer touch need only be applied precisely in the right place if such an attitude return, and by soft touch he meant a dictionary, and by right place he meant the head, or the groin, whatever worked best.

"You better invite us to stay over soon, Kurt. It sounds as if all the drama is happening in New York and baby, I was born for drama," smiled Mercedes, bringing him in for a hug as Kurt found his face drowning in a sea of black hair. The scent was pure diva, oozing of richness and glamor, it was just Mercedes. Even if all she used was lemon scented shampoo and conditioner. "Just don't forget to text or ring me once in a while. Facebook, Twitter or email me if you like, although I would prefer to hear your voice since I rarely check them as often as I used to. Don't forget, okay."

"Don't worry 'Cedes, I'll Skype you as often as I can. How does that sound?" suggested Kurt, pulling from their hug and eying Mercedes with a look that had her nodding enthusiastically. God, he really was going to miss his favorite diva. She'd have no use for pepper spray in New York. She was _the_  chocolate diva. "As soon as my agency grants me another vacation, you can come visit me in the big city, but it's only fair if you do the same 'Cedes. I want to know how life's hanging in L.A., what with your hot weather and your Hollywood hotspots and any other envious inducing things that that I've missed."

"Come here, son. Come give your old man a hug before you go," coaxed Burt, pulling Kurt into his arms and flush against his chest for a last farewell hug that had the boy taking in his father's masculine scent of mint with the aroma from the garage. Weird to some, but home to him. As it ended, Kurt rubbed Burt's arm in reassurance before picking up his suitcase and accompanying bag before swiveling around and heading through the airport's doors, waving back at them as he left. He'd already previously uttered his goodbyes to his father but now, it was time to get going.  _New York, here I come... a second time._

As soon as the sight of Mercedes and Burt disappeared behind a clattering crowd, all of which milling around as they went about their various destinations, Kurt began his own journey to his plane. He missed them already. They had never once strayed from their places beyond the doors as they had watched him leave and for the next two hours after checking in, he was going to have nothing to do but think about them. Them and of course Noah. Kurt didn't actually know where Noah was. If he had even booked out of the Lima Hotel or whether he'd already caught a flight back to New York. He'd text the man later, but for now, with time ticking away, and exiting security and passport control with now only an hour until take off, he had time to just relax and be. Maybe he go check out the stores here. Maybe this airport had a-

"Hey babe," whispered a voice behind Kurt, an unsuspecting hand landing on his shoulder, guiding him to the side of the mall and behind a pillar as the poor boy gasped in both shock and fright before he coming face to face with Noah. Placing a hand over his wildly beating heart, Kurt lightly glared at the man before smacking him round the head. He hated when people sneaked up behind him. He'd had enough of that in high school, yet he couldn't stay mad at Noah for long. The man was here and he was safe and he was... wearing dark clothes with shades several sizes too big. "Sorry Kurt, I missed you."

"Just don't ever do that to me again. You're lucky you're wearing shades, I would have poked the hell out your eyes."

"Well then I guess I'm glad I'm wearing them."

"Why are you wearing them?"

"You know why Kurt."

"Right, so you can pretend to go undercover and play top secret spies with a license to kill?" replied Kurt smirking, crossing his arms across his chest as Noah pouted in his wake. Leave it up to this man to make a game out of dodging the eye of the public. Then again, being caught wasn't too much fun and hiding after a while got really old. No wonder Noah had attempted to bring in a little fun. Admittedly, it did look kind of fun. "Oh come on Noah, take them off. I want to see you. Besides this is an airport in Ohio, no one's going to recognize you, especially ever since you shaved that dated Mohawk off."

"Hey, don't bash the cut Kurt. That Mohawk was totally hot. It made the Puckersaurus,  _the_  Puck-fasa," retorted Noah, bringing his hands to his shaved head before lightly stroking his buzz cut in remembrance of such an awesome haircut. The man must have loved that do is all Kurt could think if it made him enter a nostalgic haze like the one he was in. Made it all the more puzzling that he's got rid of it. "It brought all the girls to the yard, and even the hot twinks. Come on baby, you can't stand there and tell me you didn't like it. It turned you on didn't it? Go on, admit it."

"Yeah, maybe if I'd lived in the punk rock world of the 70s where Mohawks reined supreme on the heads of most music concert rockers, but in this decade circa. now, I saw it as nothing but a horrific result from a rogue razor," retorted Kurt as he shook his head, Noah's pout ever more pronounced as the boy giggled before stealing a kiss from those already puckered lips. "Believe me Noah; you look  _so_  much better with a buzz cut. You have a well-shaped head, it really shows it off. It suits you, and I'm telling you right now, that's what would bring me to the yard, that's what I like and that's what turns me on."

"Really?"

"You have no idea."

"Are you turned on now?"

"No, I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that you referred to yourself as 'the Puckersaurus' and... wait, what was other one again?"

"Puck-fasa. Yeah, they're just a bunch of lame names I called myself when I was back in high school. I thought it was pretty bad ass when I was sixteen, but now looking back, it's just embarrassing," muttered Noah, Kurt smiling apologetically before he was brought shuffling forward by two large hands hands on his waist. Soon after, Noah buried his face in the boy's neck as if too embarrassed to continue. It was utterly adorable. "There was the Puckerone, the Puckster, oh and of course Puckzilla down there... wow, I've just heard that in my head and that is so not sexy. My God, that is like the biggest turn off ever."

"Well like I've said before Noah, I think it's kind of cute, but now that you've learned from the mistakes of your teenage imagination, I'd suggest only referring to your dick as Puckzilla solely on special occasions," replied Kurt as he rubbed his hand along Noah's chest reassuringly. It did help to soothe the man to some extent. Running a list of everyone he'd slept with, Noah recalled the odd looks they'd thrown him at his attempts at dirty talk with such a vocabulary. No wonder they'd all sat on his face to shut him up but thank God he'd found Kurt. The only person so far who actually considered the term as endearing. "Oh crap, Noah I better get going. My flight leaves in half an hour. When's your flight?"

"Now. I'm catching the same flight back as you babe, but I made some minor adjustments. I upgraded you," grinned Noah, Kurt's eyes widening as an announcement declared the gates now open to their flight. A number of people wear picking up their belongings and heading in the direction of the plane and as Noah picked up his own, along with Kurt's small leather satchel, he placed a hand in the boy's lower back before leading them both towards the gate. "That's right baby, you're riding first class with me. I can't have you in economy when you could be sitting in my lap now could I?"

"When did you do this? Surely you would have needed my approval or something," inquired Kurt, attempting to decipher the pleased look on Noah's face. The boy did have the sneaky suspicion that shades might have been lowered before the woman at the kiosk, topped with a wink, and a flirty voice.  _Oh Noah._  "You know, I could have afforded a first class ticket if I wanted one Noah. I would have missed being able to afford food for the next week or so but hey, I'm a model. I mean no one has more than a measly carrot stick and cashew nut in their fridges when it comes to this industry."

"I know, but I just wanted to do this for you... you know, after I barged into your house and everything."

"Noah, all you need do is stop doing those things and maybe you wouldn't have to keep on making it up to me."

"I like spoiling you though. Besides later, without me around on touch down, you wouldn't have been able join me on the detour."

"What detour? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, didn't I say?" asked Noah in mock seriousness as Kurt threw him a look of impatience coupled with slight anxiousness. The boy didn't have time to play games. He was now heading to a plane that by the sounds of it would be flying him off to some unknown land and he didn't have time to waste. His two-week break from work was now over and his Elite model agency wanted him back as soon as possible. He didn't want to push his luck and he didn't want to face a 'more money rolling out than in' situation. Although, as soon as Noah turned to face him before the gate, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, Kurt's breath shuddered.

"We're off to the Hamptons baby."


	16. Hampton Heaven

_I'm your National Anthem, God you're so handsome  
__take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron  
__he loves to romance them, reckless abandon  
__holding me for ransom, upper echelon..._  

Stretching his legs and crossing the Onboard Lounge towards one of the plane's portholes, Kurt leaned forward and peered through the window. They were high in the sky now. All he could make out was the darkening orange like tinge of the horizon, skimmed delicately with the fluff of clouds, along with the land of America below. It was nostalgic in a sense. It brought back memories of the time when he'd first flown to New York. Oh, how he'd been scared back then. He'd had no idea what to expect and once he'd been driven away from John F. Kennedy airport in a bright yellow cab, the chauffeur of said cab had sped him off into his new life as if he'd done a thousand times. However, little did Kurt know back then that he'd be returning from visiting his father in Ohio in a first class Emirates plane with Noah Puckerman as a friend, companion and lover by his side.

Smiling as he pulled his face away from the window, Kurt straightened up and looked around. He'd never flown first class before. Then again, he'd only ever flown a couple times when visiting relatives with his father back in high school, and they had only been brief flights at that, but it was just as well really. They had always flown in economy and there had never been much entertainment for the passengers except to stare at the back of the chair in front of you, move your plastic fork along the so called mashed potato of airplane food, and to cue for a never ending line to a restroom where cramped had been elevated to a whole other degree. However, now that he was traveling first class, Kurt prayed that the flight would last much longer than the remaining hour they had left before they landed in New York.

First class was exquisite. Everything before him resembled very much like the photos he'd seen in online articles about certain luxury airlines installing bedroom suites into their planes, along with other features made to send the mind boggling. The Onboard Lounge was north from the seats, located on the upper deck towards the rear end of the plane. It was an area to relax in peace, socialize with other passengers and to nibble a snack in the form of hors d'oeuvres, or if you were really peckish, a Grand Cru. Five star delicacies were prepared, according to the airline, by some of the world's leading chefs, as well as fine wines carefully chosen by the plane's sommeliers. You can even have your favorite cocktail prepared for you by the dedicated bartender. Emirates really weren't kidding when it came to the height of comfort.

Except, no one was here apart from him. For some reason, as it had turned out, he and Noah were the sole first class passengers catching a late evening flight back to New York from Columbus. It was the most unlikeliest of instances and it must have happened very rarely, but yet here he was, now sitting by the portholes with only the bartender and stewardesses for company. As for Noah, the man had gone to the restroom to wash his hands and face after having traipsed around Lima for hours looking like a forties detective from an old Hollywood film noir movie. It had served to erupt a giggle from Kurt when he came to think about it, as it was just so ridiculous, but he soon calmed down as he continued taking in his comfortable surroundings.

Admittedly, he had screamed when he'd first entered first class. He'd squealed in delight at all it's features like a spoilt British brat, but without Noah here to enjoy it with, it all rendered it insignificant. Perhaps this is exactly what Noah felt in the midst of such class, the golden lap of luxury. It wasn't necessarily a case of being ungrateful; it was just that without anyone to share such decadence with him, the value of it all dropped to a rock bottom seabed. That's what Kurt was here for, company, as well as anything else Noah had planned. The man was unpredictable after all, especially now that he was jumping for joy that he had snagged Kurt before jetting off to his own retreat, the Hamptons. From one retreat to another, Kurt didn't know what to think. It was so frivolous, but ever so much fun.

Just then, as he was about to stretch his legs once more for another tour of the opulent deck, Kurt caught sight of Noah leaning in the lounge archway. He looked good. The man had changed whilst he'd been away into a pair of loose, faded jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt. His feet were bare, his bronzed chest was bare and his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows to reveal even more bareness for Kurt to drink in. Yes, Noah looked very good. Swaggering over to the boy before plonking himself next to him, Noah proceeded to stare into Kurt's blue eyes, Kurt returning the intense gaze as they simply took each other in. A mixture of amusement, warmth and lust flickered between their senses. They were happy to be in each other's company, but a growl from Kurt's stomach broke the air, causing the boy to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh God, that's embarrassing," laughed Kurt, blushing slightly as he placed a hand to his famished stomach, feeling it around as he smiled back up at Noah. The man returned the grin, a chuckle escaping him as he took in how adorable Kurt had just rendered himself. It really was time for something to eat. Neither of them had snacked on anything at the airport, in fact, neither of them had had anything to munch on since lunch that afternoon. Motioning to one of the stewardesses for a plate of something that would hopefully prevent the chorus of grumbles that were emanating from a certain model's tummy, Noah returned to Kurt, the boy's face appreciative.

"Babe, wouldn't you prefer a meal or something? She's only going to return with those little hors d'oeuvres things."

"As small as they are Noah, we've only got a hour left. It would take longer to cook and we just don't have time."

"Then I guess we'll just have to snack until we can eat something bigger when we land."

"Oh no, don't hold back because of me Noah. Order whatever you want. You're a big boy. Big boys need their food."

"Nah, I'll just go for whatever you're going for Kurt. Sure, I could do with a plate of fried chicken, but the food they serve here isn't really all that bad. Not even the hors d'oeuvres," replied Noah as Kurt nodded fondly back in response, the sudden impulse to lean in and capture the man's lips overtaking him. Noah, smiling at the initiation, kissed back before waving a hand through Kurt's soft hair, his fingers trailing along the back of the boy's ear and down his neck. It was a soft and gentle kiss, one that now found Noah fighting not to end, until the need for oxygen prevailed. "Want something to drink?"

"Yes please. I would ask for a Kopparburg cider, but I doubt they serve them here... oh they do. Oh that's great. I think I'll go for a strawberry and lime flavored one then, please," answered Kurt politely, having noticed the bartender lifting up a bottle of the beverage from his bar and displaying it before him. Ordering a scotch whiskey, Noah sat back as the bartender trotted over to them both with their respective drinks, smiling as they collected them with a thank you before returning to the bar. Again, both of them were underage for alcohol, but Kurt assumed the staff turned a blind eye to it all when it came to the Puckerman's and their guests.

"Don't drink yet babe. I want to propose a toast," began Noah quickly, Kurt nodding, lowering his glass as he listened intently. "I just wanted to say that I'm so happy you're with me here now Kurt. You didn't have talk to me back at your dad's place. You could have just thrown me out, but you didn't. You didn't have to sleep with me once I said I'd leave Quinn for you. You could have just said 'no', but you didn't, and finally, you didn't have to join me here. You could have just flown in economy or even caught another flight, but you didn't. You're here with me and for that, I'm so-"

"Happy? I know you are Noah, you couldn't stop smiling the whole through," laughed Kurt as Noah's eyes shifted down to his whiskey, a light shade of red flushing his tanned cheeks as the model continued to smile. There they clinked their glasses and drank a sip of their beverages before reattaching their lips, the taste of strawberry and lime cider mingling with that of scotch whiskey, the very same drinks that they had had the night they had first met at the Padova Pad. Present gratitude alongside nostalgia was just swimming everywhere until, with a clearing of a throat, Kurt pulled away.

Two stewardesses, one brunette and one blonde, both dressed in eye-catching red and white uniforms, stood before the two lovebirds with their hands behind their backs and their faces blushing and smiling. Apologizing with a look, Kurt looked down at the delectable hors d'oeuvres presented neatly on a silver platter on the coffee table. A wide range of canapés, that had been spread with flavored cream cheese upon shaped bread and garnished with caviar and truffle oil filled half of the tray, whilst the other half presented Brushetta, each grilled bread topped with spicy red pepper, tomato and vegetables. It all looked divine, but it was not the sole tray there. Beside it, was a tray covered in Incroyable Strawberry Candy and Chocolate Coconut Macarons alongside Rose Raspberry and Vanilla Chocolate Saint Honorés, all delicious, all so tempting.

"Thanks ladies, this all looks great. Want to join us?" offered Noah as Kurt snatched his eyes away from the drooling sight of the food to raise his head and notice the stewardesses drooling themselves, but not over the hors d'oeuvres, but over Noah. The man had lain back in his seat, splayed out his body and opened it, revealing further of that muscle carved chest that both women just couldn't bring themselves to look away from. Noah was obviously doing it on purpose, judging by the satisfied smirk he was pulling, one that widened as they nodded before taking up the seats opposite them both.

"So... Kitty, why don't you to tell us what you've brought us?" suggested Kurt as he peered at the name badge on the blonde's chest. It might seem odd to some, but Kurt wasn't threatened by these two pretty ladies. They could eye bat as much as they liked at Noah and Noah could smirk seductively right back. It was all innocent and part of human nature. After all, it's not as if he hadn't eyed the nice looking bartender out of the corner of his eye at least once. _There's nothing by it_ , he thought as Kitty finished explaining both trays to him, her red lips smiling. "Thank you, it all looks so delicious."

"Well we do strive for you to experience cuisine and service worthy of the world's finest restaurants," nodded Kitty curtly, her attention now completely on Kurt as Noah leaned forward, his hazel eyes bearing into her. The gaze was so intense that it caused the girl to stumble and blush, but she continued. "There's a range of delicacies, carefully selected and prepared, available on demand throughout the flight. The platters here are of Royal Doulton fine bone china with exclusive Robert Welch cutlery, alongside the finest wines in the air, every aspect of the dining experience has been tuned to perfection."

"You sure know your stuff Kitty," complimented Noah as she threw him a thankful smile, a rose tinted blush spreading like delicate fire along her cheeks as Kurt rolled his eyes in amusement. The fact that Noah had allegedly been a notorious womanizer was still fresh in his mind and despite the man having told him to consider the amount of 'embellished bullshit' in the press that was layered on with a trowel, Kurt still couldn't ignore the fact that the two stewardesses were catching Noah's interest. Or were they? Was this all just a harmless game? A little flirty, cheeky game? Oh he could play this game. Kurt could _so_ play this game. "Any other stuff you want to share... Kitty?"

"Well I-" Kitty was cut off abruptly as a moan flooded the lounge, the sexual sonic sound reverberating clearly around the room. Looking over at the one responsible for the sound, both stewardesses and Noah frowned before their eyes widened and their mouths parted in awe. There Kurt was, a Rose Raspberry Saint Honoré in hand, and a whipped cream pout that was in the process of being thoroughly licked, the white confectionery disappearing on a ravenous pink tongue. Now Kurt had caught all their speechless attentions, and now he would ace the game like the food slut he was. _Here we go._

"I'm sorry, was I too loud? Do excuse me, but I'm just a sucker for rich and creamy cakes... a real sucker," cooed Kurt has he giggled flirtatiously, biting back a full outburst of laughter as he noticed he'd caught the attention of the bar tender as well as everyone else, all four of them eying him with parched mouths, dry throats and body languages set to pounce and devour at any second. _Perfect_ , thought Kurt as he internally congratulated himself for having snagged back Noah's attention along with three other surprise bonuses. He was good at this game that was for sure. "Gee... this is _so_ good. So, so good..."

"Don't forget the raspberries... they're also really good," pointed out the second stewardess, Marley, as Kurt took another bite of the cake, his eyes rolling in their sockets, as he swallowed sweetness itself for a second time before nodding over at the girl and looking back over at Noah. He blinked. The man was entranced. His hazel eyes had darkened into a pair of lust frothing pools, his face was flustered, his body nearing and a tent big enough to rip apart his jeans served to nearly throw Kurt out of the game with a gasp of pleasure. After this, never again would he doubt his own power in seduction.

"You're right Marley, the raspberries do look good. Though I'm afraid I might make a sticky mess all over myself."

"Fuck the mess babe, just eat it."

"Are you sure Noah? They're so big and juicy. How do want me to-"

"Just eat it Kurt... nice and slow, and... don't go easy on the mess."

"Ooh, dirty boy," oozed Kurt as he plucked a raspberry from within the cream topping of the cake before began gorging himself on it, not being careful at all and allowing the juices to escape his mouth and down his chin until it's sweet blood was nothing more than a red trickle against an alabaster neck. It really was good, but the next thing Kurt knew, Noah had surged forward and had begun licking up the raspberry trail in one smooth yet slightly rugged motion until only a stripe of sheen now adorned his neck, followed up by a hungry kiss to his jawline. Ever so famished, ever so wanting. "Dirty boy..."

"Oh my God that was hot, babe. W-why don't you try one of those macarons things?" asked Noah, grabbing a chocolate macaron and offering it to a bewildered Kurt. Taking the confectionery, the boy looked around. Everyone was keen for another viewing. The bartender was leaning so far forward on the bar that he was at risk of knocking over Kurt's Kopparburg bottle. Both Kitty and Marley were biting their lips from the lick his neck had just received and finally Noah, the most enraptured of them all, was so close to him that Kurt could the feel the heat from a certain manhood. _So hot._ "Eat it."

"Whatever gives you pleasure," purred Kurt, twisting the two chocolate cookies of the macarons apart like an Oreo to reveal the coconut buttercream filling inside. There he poked out his tongue and lathered up the filling, his taste buds screaming for mercy as they were drenched in heaven. Kurt was no longer playing the game. He'd lost himself inside it for the food had won. He was just that hungry and just that easy of a victim to fall in surrender of such deliciousness. His moans were no longer put on, but still layered in sex, his expressions no longer exaggerated but begging for more. "My God...my... God..."

"Girls, thanks for the food. You've been great, but would you mind leaving us? Kurt and I would um... would like to be alone for a moment," requested Noah, his voice croaky and strained from Kurt's food sex showcase. The man had snapped and had nearly proceeded to unbuckle his belt, open his jeans and touch himself for the sake of his own humanity, when a quick cursory glance at the stewardesses and bartender had him realizing his slip. He needed to be alone with Kurt. All alone, away from the lustful prying eyes of others, for Kurt was his. Others may have been allowed to look, but they couldn't touch.

"Oh... of course Mr. Puckerman, you're welcome. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to let us know," stuttered Kitty, both her and Marley snapping out of their gaping states before jumping up from their seats, straightening out their uniforms and scurrying out of the lounge, grabbing hold of the bartender and dragging him away with them as they all left Noah and Kurt in peace. No sooner had they disappeared then Noah pounced on Kurt, knocking over both platters of food with a loud clatter and sending hors d'oeuvres, macarons and pastries flying everywhere across the lounge floor.

"Oh, wow mister's hungry," laughed Kurt, squealing in delight as his mouth was attacked in a full on kiss, that was as hot and as raw to the bone as any. There, he brought the remaining two chocolate shells from the macarons out from under and dangled them in front of Noah's face once the man had pulled away. Taking the hint, Noah allowed Kurt to feed them into his mouth, moaning in pleasure as they melted easily on his tongue before crashing his lips once more onto Kurt's, a coconut cavern meeting head on with a chocolate one. Never had there been a sweeter kiss. "Noah, you taste so good."

"That's because I'm kissing you baby."

"Well I- no, no Noah, none of that, we're landing soon and they forbid sex on-board."

"Fuck that Kurt, you're finishing what you've started."

"But what if they catch us?"

"They'll beg to join us. You know babe, at first I thought sexy eating looked stupid and sloppy and that no one could pull it off but now after seeing you doing it, I've never been more turned on in my life," admitted Noah, wrapping his arms around Kurt, lifting him up in a bridal hold and carrying him over to their suite. Upon reaching the double bed, the man lowered Kurt onto the quilt below before crawling on top of him, bringing them face to face, inches apart and their breath mingling, hot and heavy. "I mean you put on one hell of a show back there, but now baby, it's my turn to devour you..."

_I sing the National Anthem while I'm standing over your body, hold you like a python_  
_and you can't your keep hands off me or your pants on_  
_see what you've done to me, King of Chevron..._

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Unlocking the front door and wheeling Kurt's suitcase into the foyer, Noah switched on the lights until all of their surroundings were made visible. They were here in The Hamptons at Noah's East Hampton home. The plane had arrived in New York about two hours ago where they had been driven from the airport in a private car to the house and throughout the journey, both boys had undergone their first set of backseat canoodling. Of course, the fact that there wasn't a partition separating the front seats from the back meant that nothing could go beyond kissing touching and the odd groping here and there. It had been frustrating for Noah, almost going out of his way to beg Kurt for his 'hot as fuck' handjobs, but not wanting to risk the driver catching them, crashing the car and dying, Kurt had rejected the idea, promising something better once they'd arrive.

Now that they were here though, Kurt's thoughts of making it up to Noah were thrown out the window as soon as he laid eyes on the man's Hampton home. It was beautiful. So unlike his modern apartment in the city and closer to something you would find on a typical suburban American street, the elite street that is. The house, according to Noah, was a newly constructed 7500-square foot creation on two beautiful acres overlooking the pond that he'd bought only last year. It was located on a quiet cul-de-sac, had formidable bones, a logical flow and a great sense of style. A real East Hampton village sensation, that Noah would often retreat to for spring breaks and end of semester holidays when he preferred the sights and sounds of the country instead of the concrete jungle that was New York.

As for the parties that were reputed to happen here, Kurt began to guess that they weren't as rambunctious as the press liked to pretend they were. After all, the Salvatore Spectacle's after parties was a clear example of that and besides, there was something about Noah's home that didn't scream college kids gone wild with kegs planted everywhere like Easter eggs. Moreover, a neat hangout spot or at the most, a secluded hideout for secret sex romps with drunken friends. It was something Kurt was keen to find out but for now, he was too busy taking everything in as both the indoor and outdoor lights came on to further bathe the five million dollar home in a golden light. _Wow..._ , he thought as Noah the door behind him, the boy walking further into the center of the foyer and looking up at the vast yet very homey interior. _This is incredible..._

"I know right," chuckled Noah, walking up behind Kurt and wrapping his arms around him. The architectural details were striking, including the magnificent 20' ceiling of the foyer with its circular staircase, oak hardwood floors throughout, wainscoting, crown moldings, built-ins, floor-to-ceiling windows, the list went on and on. To someone from Lima, where luxury was more of a word associated with living comfortably, securely and without many financial woes in an average semi-detached house, Kurt was amazed. "Welcome to my little slice of heaven, babe. I haven't had it long but I love it here."

"And why wouldn't you? This place is just incredible," muttered Kurt, continuing to gawp and not even blushing when he'd voiced his thoughts earlier by accident. Resting his chin on the boy's shoulder and lowering his hands to Kurt's stomach, Noah brought his body in and slowly began to rock them both slightly from side to side. Affectionate gestures like these would always surprise Kurt. Apart from his father, Kurt had always stayed clear of touching other boys in case they freaked out, but with big arms and a big chest surrounding him, he had entered his own heaven. "You're incredible, Noah."

"You too, babe... oh, are you still hungry? You want to eat something?"

"No, I'm fine, but you didn't eat anything yourself apart from two macarons cookies."

"Nah, I'd rather have you Kurt. You're in my house and I have you all to myself. You're all mine now."

"I know. You made that quite clear on the plane and in the car on our way over here."

"I could have made it clearer too, if we hadn't been told to return to our seats for the descent just when I had you on the bed," replied Noah in mock irritation, Kurt swiveling round to face him in his hold as they now found themselves facing each other, once again inches apart. _Poor Noah_ , thought Kurt. The man had been trying to get into his pants again since that night in Lima, but couldn't. _Talk about sexual frustration_. "And why no partitions in your cars, BMW? What are hot guys like me to do when they want to get it on Kurt Hummel on the backseat? God damn cock blocking Germans."

"Noah, you needn't blame the Germans. They just don't take the libidos of hot guys like yourself into account all that often when it comes to making their cars. Probably explains why their models are that low on the car sex rates, compared to those of Lexus or Rolls Royce," joked Kurt, giggling as Noah joined in the laughter, during which the man gradually tightened his hold on the boy whilst chuckling, keeping Kurt's smile very much wide as he continued. "Besides, we're here now Noah, a real model magnet. So you'll be happy to know there are no more distractions in the form of landing planes and BMW's."

"I like the sound of that. I've had to resort to mentally undressing you for the past few hours, four times in total since we've come in," admitted Noah, Kurt's eyes widening as the man chuckled at the boy's surprised expression. Kurt was just that sexy. Hell, Noah was still turned on from his eating show back on the plane. It reminded him of the time at Mangia, when Kurt done something similar to a Strawberry Shortcake. Oh, how he had worked his ass off to hide that hard on. "When it comes to you baby, I just can't help it when my dirty mind runs away with me. I'm only human."

"True, but... oh! Is that who I think it is?"

"It sure is. He's been cooped up in there, waiting all this time but now, I think he's waited long enough."

"Noah Puckerman, what are you getting at?"

"I think you know baby. Nothing's going to block him now."

"What are you- ah! Noah, put me down! What are you doing?!" exclaimed Kurt as he was lifted in a bridal hold into Noah's arms before being carried up the staircase to the first floor. He'd been pressed so close to the man earlier that the feeling of an erection had been unmissable. There it had bulged, throbbed and let out a heat that had seared into Kurt's own groin, exciting him, but wondering what on earth Noah was going to do about it. The man was beyond aroused and in Noah's mind, he had to get off or die. There was no question about it, he was going to have sex tonight. "Noah, where are you taking me?!"

"Only to Puckzilla's natural habitat, the bedroom," answered Noah, chuckling as Kurt's eyes once again blew wide. Sex was tempting after the plane and car, but the boy really wanted to explore this Hampton mansion. He wanted to see the gourmet kitchen and four distinctive fireplaces. He wanted to see everything there was, but it looked like he had no choice as he was carried along the upstairs gallery. "Whine, wiggle or whinge as much as you want Kurt, but the only tour of this house that I'm taking you on is of my bed chamber, and that's not going to end until I have you screaming my name."

"Well then maybe I won't say it. Whatever will our great sex shark do then?" challenged Kurt, Noah growling, itching to fuck that smirk right off of the boy's face. At that moment, they arrived at the view filled master suite, the man opening the door, switching on the lights before shuffling them in and over towards the king sized bed. Kurt could only catch a brief glimpse of a fire-lit sitting area, the en-suite and the dressing room before he was dropped onto the plush quilt below, and as he made to look further around, his view was blocked as Noah landed on him. "Noah please, can't we do this later?"

"The house will still be here once we've finished Kurt, but my hard on may not be."

"Unlikely Noah, you've always got a hard on around me."

"You're not helping yourself babe. You forget I've got you like this and I'm keeping you like this."

"Oh really, I... oh my God, Mrs. Puckerman!"

"What?! Mom?!" cried out Noah, whipping his head around in shock to look at the empty doorway. Now was Kurt's chance. Noah had positioned himself in between Kurt's legs, wrapping them around his hips, but now with the pressure alleviated by the distraction, the boy took advantage of his loss of attention and flipped them over. Using all the power he had in his smaller body, Kurt pushed with all his might against Noah, sending the man to lie on the bed with Kurt now straddling him defiantly, his hands pinning Noah's shoulders to the quilt as he smirked at him from above. "What the... touché, baby."

"That's right. You've met your match, Big Daddy," smirked Kurt, smiling proudly before jumping off the bed and running into the en-suite bathroom, shutting the door and locking it firmly behind him. As he did, Noah chuckled. He couldn't believe he'd been had by one of the easiest tricks in the book. It's what kids used on the playground when playing stuck in the mud. In fact, he was surprised Kurt hadn't further teased and taunted him with a childish round of 'made you look, made you stare, made you lose your underwear!' _If only_ , thought Noah as he got off the bed and made his way over to the bathroom.

"Er, Kurt? You do you know there's no way out of there except through here, right?" chuckled Noah, knocking on the door and trying out the handle before shaking his head with a smile on his face. He didn't know what Kurt was doing in there, most likely checking out the bathroom architecture and design. It's what he had been doing ever since he'd entered the house, but Noah supposed he couldn't blame the boy. The building had been designed for comfortable luxury and a relaxed Hamptons lifestyle by some designer whose name escaped him for the moment. "Kurt? Kurt, what are you doing in there?"

"Oh, just the usual. Looking around, taking my clothes off and entering your shower as naked and as bare as the night you fucked me in mine," cried out Kurt from beyond as Noah blinked, almost losing balance in his legs as he nearly stumbled forward and hit in his head against the door. _Fucking door_ , thought Noah, as he was glad no one was around to see his near fall. _For fuck's sake, just break the thing down! Get Puckzilla over to that boy, now!_ "You know Noah, you may have me cornered, but trust me, I'm going to make the most out of this corner as I possibly can... my God, it's hot in here."

"That's it, I'm coming in," whispered Noah harshly, plunging his hand into his pocket and searching wildly before bringing out a paper clip that he soon bent into shape. Fitting the short wire into the keyhole, Noah fiddled carefully around with it until with a click, the door was unlocked. He'd learned this little trick back in elementary school when he and friends had snuck into the classroom at lunch to unlock one of the drawers from the teacher's desk. In it had been candy for those who had done well in class, but having been known as an 'out of control little rodent', Noah had never got one. He'd soon fixed that.

Pocketing the paper clip, Noah quietly opened the door only to have a tsunami like wave of steam come hurtling towards him. It was enough to close the door again, but right now he was too determined and too horny to back down at the hands of freaking water vapor. He waved his hand in front of him, squinting as he tried to make out where everything was, though it wasn't easy. Thankfully, unlike the sweet, wholesome and country feel the house had going on, the bathroom was as modern as they came. The furniture and surfaces had been designed with rounded edges, sandpapered down so that if it came to being blinded from a fog of steam, there would be no risk of major injury. It was just as well, because Noah had already accidentally walked into the counter before saying hello to the center bathtub. Oh how this was fun.

_Feel your eyes on me everywhere I go like a little boy up in a candy store_  
_Craving to get your hands on, give it up before my momma says no_  
_I'm a let you get it a little closer even though I'm not suppose to_  
_I like it strong when it's on, boys, I'm a little tipsy play along with me..._

Snapping his head in the direction of the roaring shower, Noah began to make out the glass of the large cubicle, its surface thick with growing layers of condensation. There, somewhere inside, was Kurt, singing his heart out and probably still thinking Noah was still in the bedroom. There was no way the boy would have been able to hear anything above the shower and his own voice, how it reverberated around the white tiled room and back to him like a sonic boomerang. However, what Kurt was singing was what had caught Noah's attention. It was sex. The lyrics didn't speak of much else, and as the man began to undress, stripping away every article of clothing one by one until he was in nothing but his own sweating skin, Noah smiled. _This is just too good_ , he thought as he caught sight of Kurt's clothes leading him like a trail of bed crumbs right to the shower door. _Too good..._

_You know you really wanna, hey, wanna taste my, you know you wanna get a peak, wanna see my_  
_you know you wanna put your lips where my hips are, kiss on my, all over my_  
_all the boys think its cake when they taste my, you don't even need a plate, just your face, ha!_  
_licky, licky, yum, yum, what a great guy, now kiss on my, all over my..._

Nearing the shower door, Noah pulled it open and closed it quietly behind him, being careful not to startle Kurt as the boy had yet to notice him. There the man watched as Kurt, with his back to him, began to lather on shower gel onto a shower pouf that he had no doubt fished from one of the bathroom cabinets. Gliding the pouf down his neck, across his shoulders, along his arms and up his chest, it looked as if there was no effort in anything that Kurt was doing. When it came to showering, Noah simply lathered his own body in gel before rinsing, not giving it two thoughts and generally getting it over and done with. He supposed that's what Kurt was doing now, except he seemed to be drawing everything out. Every stretch of the pouf along the pale skin looked as if it were being done in slow motion, yet by the end; his whole body was covered in a white foam, sweet smelling and fresh as he.

_Pick your glass up, your sipping kind of slow, want to see just how you take it down low_  
_hurry up I wanna see a bit more, take it off before my mama gets bored._  
_I know that you love me long time yeah, you wanna take it for a ride, yeah_  
_I'm feeling bad and I like it, I'm a little tipsy play along with m-_

Squeaking in surprise, and placing a hand over his wildly beating heart, Kurt took notice of Noah at the far end of the cubicle, his body coming into contact with the spray and rinsing him free of the shower gel which he'd just spent a minute washing his body with. He hadn't heard Noah enter. Hell, he didn't even know how he'd entered considering he'd locked the door, and like the man had said, it was the only entrance in here, but he supposed Noah had his ways. Ways like sneaking up on him in the shower. It was something Kurt wasn't accustomed to. At home, he'd shower alone. At school, he'd showered alone. He'd only ever showered alone but now with Noah Puckerman, naked as he himself, as bare and as open as the day they had fucked in his own shower in Lima, Kurt gulped. This was one of the most erotic moments in his life.

_You know you really wanna, hey, wanna taste my, you know you wanna get a peak, wanna see my_  
_you know you wanna put your lips where my hips are, kiss on my, all over my_  
_all the boys think its cake when they taste my, you don't even need a plate, just your face, ha!_  
_licky, licky, yum, yum, what a great guy, now kiss on my, all over my..._

As Kurt's singing voice lowered yet continued to sing the song under his breath, both he and Noah stared at each other intently. The boy supposed that this was the first time he'd come to see Noah in the nude without being plastered to him in some way. When they'd been in his bed back in Lima, the lighting had been ambient yes, but not clear, and the visibility in his shower had been similar to the one here, all not affording a good look, until now. The steam, as if sensing that being in the way couldn't come at a worst time, lightened somewhat to allow each male a clearer look at each other, and Kurt bit his plump lip as he eyed the man before him. Noah Puckerman was hot. From his sun kissed skin, handsome buzz cut and masculine face, to his hunk like build, bearing ever so burly arms, strong thighs and trimmed dark hair on his chest, he was so hot.

_All the boys up in the place, it's your turn_  
_can't fulfill him in the middle of the day around with words_  
_oh, I know I probably shouldn't but, uh, I'm feeling good_  
_oh, I'm a little tipsy play along with me..._

Bringing his eyes south, further and further down, Kurt took notice of Noah's erect manhood. It was big. Of course, Kurt had encountered it before. He'd felt it and it rubbed against his own, but again like Noah's body, he'd never come to get a good look at it. He supposed the man was rather pleased with what he had, his endowment being one of his favorite physical attributes, and why shouldn't he be? Noah was hung like a freaking horse. A large penis was often viewed by many as an attractive trait, and if used correctly, a very attractive trait. For Kurt however, it was a sight that made him gulp nervously. Here he was singing a song about oral sex when a eight inch erect hose was saying hello to him. Was he now going to have to go down on it? He was only one tiny person with a mouth and throat to match!

_You know you really wanna, hey, wanna taste my, you know you wanna get a peak, wanna see my_  
_you know you wanna put your lips where my hips are, kiss on my, all over my_  
_all the boys think its cake when they taste my, you don't even need a plate, just your face, ha!_  
_licky, licky, yum, yum, what a great guy, now kiss on my, all over my..._

Kurt was brought immediately out of his thoughts of choking on cock when Noah launched himself at him, pressing their bodies together and taking up the boy's lips for a searing kiss that had Kurt clinging onto the man's shoulders for support. For Noah, the way Kurt had eyed his length with a look akin to a child who had just discovered the tallest statue ever made, had been such a turn on. He was immensely proud of his penis, his private pride and joy, and it had stretched many a woman's walls past its limits many a time, but such an impressive gift had often come with a price in the past. A number of girls he'd bedded had preferred to pleasure him in other ways, since the idea of penetration with a dick of that size and length had frightened them, subsequently killing their libidos. It was disheartening to say the least, but what did Kurt think?

_All my boys say if you gotta great, let him get a peek_  
_If you gotta sweet, let me hear you scream, but bitches keep it clean_  
_Woohoo_

Pulling Noah under the warm spray of the shower, Kurt moaned in pleasure, both of them relaxing, Noah's muscles calming as they smooched and smooched and smooched, a real smooching frenzy of a smooch. However, as soon as the manhood that had been the topic of both boy's thoughts came into contact with Kurt's, rubbing against it, frotting like crazy, the boy let out a piercing cry of pleasure. The nerves in his groin were going wild with every rubbing action made as Noah descended his lips to Kurt's neck. The heat from the water was heating them up more than ever, their libidos were rocketing like no other and it was as if the clear liquid had glued them together, for there they continued waging war with their mouths, bodies touching, until with a sudden action, Noah's eyes widened.

"Kurt... what are you..." frowned Noah, watching as Kurt had taken hold of his hose, was lowering himself to the ground and was kneeling on his knees before it, his face concentrated and determined. Oral sex was hot. It felt good, and Kurt wanting to do it just made it that much better. However, as Noah lowered his hand to cup it under the boy's chin, lifting Kurt's eyes to look into his, he could tell that something wasn't quite right. "Kurt, babe... are you sure you want to do this, because you don't have to. I mean, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you ought to do something you're not ready for."

"What makes you think I'm not ready for it?"

"It's okay Kurt, you don't have hide it. I am big, and I could tell that it's scared you a little... you're not the only one."

"Really?"

"Yeah, some chicks can't take it, literally. I mean I love my dick, but sometimes it's just too intimidating to some."

"I had no idea...," muttered Kurt quietly as he took another look at Noah's manhood. What the man had said was believable, and Kurt could see how women could get put off by such an endowment. Even gay men might think it threatening, not only to their asses but also to their own endowments, shaming them ruthlessly and leading them to walk out the same door as the women had used, but also with a bruised ego. Kudos to the girls who had had the balls to ride this monster. "Besides Noah, I just sang a song about giving head. It would be inappropriate of me not to go down on you."

"Kurt, look at me," ordered Noah sternly, the joke like smile that had splayed on Kurt's lips now disappearing as the man lowered himself to crouch down to his level, hazel eyes meeting blue in the wake of the mist of vapor all around. Noah wasn't finding this at all that amusing. He was serious about it, for Kurt had never done this before. Nothing could be taken lightly. "Again, I don't want you to do this because you feel like you ought to do it. I want you to do this because you want to do this, and that you want to give me pleasure. You're heart won't be in it if you force yourself."

"Noah, I'm not forcing myself. I had this in mind when I said I'd make it up to you for the car journey over here. Why else do you think I would sing a song about it?" asked Kurt, shrinking slightly when the explanation failed to convince Noah, yet the concern in the the man's eyes only seemed to bring his heart out to soften in the droplets of the water. Here was New York's wealthiest bachelor, crouching down in a shower cubicle with him with anxious eyes, making sure Kurt was sure he knew what he wanted. Defying what most guys would do, Noah must have cared a great deal for him. "Noah, I... I want-"

"Kurt, without looking anywhere else but my eyes, tell me that you want to do this. Tell me."

"I want to do this. "

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Noah, I want to give you head. I want to taste you, I really do, but above all, I just want to give you pleasure."

"All right babe, but I've got to ask, this is your first time doing this, right?" inquired Noah, looking intently back at Kurt as the boy rested his hands on the man's shoulders in self comfort, nodding his head in confirmation as Noah's libido once again rocketed to you new heights. He'd slept with virgins before, all of them girls, so it was nothing new. However, the fact that he was introducing Kurt to all these sexual experiences one by one, he couldn't help but feel excited. Sure, it might get sloppy and accidental biting and scraping might occur, but sometimes the messier it was, the hotter it became.

"But just because I'm new to this Noah, I don't want you to be scared yourself in case I... you know... hurt you," assured Kurt. "I'll admit in the past, whenever I've been... sexually charged, I've channeled my arousal into researching and practicing different sexual acts, like the hand job I gave you, and when it came to blow jobs, I practiced on bananas and other phallus shaped foods. It was difficult at first to go easy on the teeth and explain to my dad why there were so many banana skins in my trash can, but I was determined not to hurt the man I would be giving head to... if there was ever going to be a man that is."

During Kurt's response, Noah's eyes had widened with every passing word. The boy was the first person he'd come across who when faced with pleasuring himself when horny, instead went ahead and researched on how to actually do it. It was the strangest, sweetest and saddest thing he'd heard in some time, but he guessed it was the only thing Kurt could have done considering he'd never had anybody to practice with, not even with Blaine. Whilst most if not all of the boy's peers had been learning sex techniques they didn't teach you in school, Kurt had had a banana. A fucking banana. "Let me do this Noah. If not for me then the high school me all alone in my bedroom on a Friday night. I wouldn't like to think all those bananas died in vain. I want to prove to you and myself that I can do this. I'm ready for this. Let me make you feel good."

"You know what Kurt; I'm going to let you. I know you want to do it, I can tell, and after you're done making it up to me, I'm going to help you make up for all the lack of high school sex you missed out on, because you Kurt, are hot as fuck," complimented Noah, stroking Kurt's gleaming wet hair as the boy blushed at the determination in the man's voice. Yep, after this, Noah was going to do him every which way, over and over again. "And just between you and me babe, I bet none of the cocks those chicks sucked at your school even come close to mine. They have nothing on me. You have the best."

Smiling back in gratitude as the man rose from his crouching position, Kurt swallowed nervously as he found Noah's manhood once again in front of him in all its erect glory, the epitome of the man's masculinity presented proudly before him. Looking at it now, Kurt supposed he'd used to it. The size of it wasn't so much of an obstacle anymore as it had been and whether that was because he'd accustomed himself to it or because Noah had been a real gentlemen about the whole thing, he didn't know, but it was an improvement none the less. Lifting his hand and tracing the length, feeling the thick veins on the side before bringing his finger to the tip, Kurt's mouth bag to water as the opening at the top had already begun to leak pre-cum, the clear liquid milling around on his finger as he shuffled forward.

Noah's hose, come to think of it, wasn't not that much bigger than the largest banana Kurt had practiced on one time. Yes, it had led him to choke several times, his eyes having watered like two loose faucets but he'd managed and mastered it until his gag reflex had been tamed. Now, with the real thing before him, his determination rose to new heights and without further hesitation, he released his tongue and licked Noah's dick. The man's eyes and mouth burst open as he let out a loud gasp, his breath coming out erratically as the overwhelming sensation ran through him like electricity. He wasn't usually this sensitive to blow jobs, given his impressive stamina and all, but the fact that it was Kurt, and that he was teasing him, warming him up for the next move, God, it nearly undid him.

"Am I doing well, baby? I'm not doing it wrong am I?" asked Kurt, peering up at Noah and giggling when all he received in response was a strained grunt. It was all the boy needed to know. Returning to Noah's manhood, Kurt this time engulfed it whole in a moist, supple and impassioned mouth, causing the man to cry out. Kurt had not been lying when he had claimed to have done his research. The boy could blow like a pro. He was applying the right amount of pressure and suction while his teeth were positioned to avoid harm, every move perfected to the last lick. God bless those bananas.

"Mother of God…" groaned Noah, having to lean against the cool tiled wall for support as his legs had uselessly abandoned him, though they it was only a matter of time. He'd never received such satisfaction from oral sex in his life. Not only was Kurt's blow job slowly killing his nerves and senses one by one with every suck, lick and whatever else that boy's mouth had in store in for him, but the setting of it all added to the pure erotic factor. The shower, the steam, the empty house. It was as if his humble dwelling was asking, no, demanding sex, and who was he to disagree? He was fucking loving this.

"Fuck... oh, oh fuck! Y-yeah!" he swore, his hand that had been stroking Kurt's wet hair, now forming itself into a fist as he gently took hold of crop of the boy's hair before leading Kurt into every dive of his mouth. He wanted more. He wanted the boy to go faster, to increase the pace, anything. It's what he desired and as Kurt took the hint, he brought out his hand to fondle Noah's balls, humming on his hose, the vibrations caressing every sensitive nerve as the boy bobbed his head up and down relentlessly, his tongue never faltering in slathering Noah's manhood before going back in again for the kill.

"Shit, you're mouth babe... so hot, so... tight, Christ! Let me fuck that mouth," rushed Noah impatiently, placing both his hands on top of Kurt's head and thrusting in and out of the boy's mouth, Kurt remaining perfectly still and he took every single plunge from the man's length. Even through Noah's frantic demands for more, Kurt seemed to be coping quite well with the pressure. The boy had amazed himself as he hadn't back off from Noah delving deep, the tip of his shaft diving down Kurt's throat, softly lodging it there and the man savoring the intense feeling as he almost passed out from it all.

"Yeah, take it baby, take- shit! Oh, oh shit! Kurt, stop... I'm gonna... I'm gonna blow! Babe!" cried out Noah as his eyes snapped open, Kurt's extended deep throat talent bringing about the oncoming arrival of his embarrassingly early end. However, despite his warning cries, Kurt's head wouldn't let up. There it stayed until with a final shout from the man above, the boy lifted his head just in time for his elegant neck to receive rope after rope of cream like seed, drenching the skin as Noah let out a thunderous howl of pleasure, the roar echoing around the bathroom.

"Oh my, look at all this jewellery," sighed Kurt happily, Noah continuing to ride out his orgasm, his body violently spasming as Kurt took hold of his manhood and milked it, eventually leaning in and recapturing it in his mouth as Noah exclaimed loudly once more. _Have mercy on me, Kurt!_ Thought Noah, Kurt licking him clean before swirling his finger through the cum now beautifully adoring his neck like an abstract work of art. "When I asked for a pearl necklace Noah, this wasn't what I had in mind, but I suppose it'll have to do for now. Thank you."

"Oh my God... Kurt... oh my... Jesus that was good- no, wait! Don't wash it off yet!"

"Why not?"

"Let me look at you... damn, Kurt... you know, if it were up to me, that would be the only thing of mine you'd wear."

"Only on one condition Noah, that I'd have a new one made for me every, single, day."

"Dirty boy," smirked Noah, raking his eyes up and down Kurt's flushing figure from his cute little feet to his decorated neck. The sight was ever so sexy and for Kurt, the liquid was ever so warm. It had rained down on him so hot and so fast that it had been a shock at first, but now as he backed himself into the spray, watching his pearl necklace untangle, run down his body and disappear down into the midst of the shower's ocean below, he couldn't wait for his next one. Even though his mouth was aching, his cheeks flushed, his throat sore and his tongue exhausted, he just couldn't wait.

"I think we can safety say that you've made it up to me, babe. Blowing the absolute shit out of me, yeah, you've pretty much hit the jackpot there, but now it's your turn. Come here," smirked Noah, sauntering his way over to Kurt and bringing him flush against his chest with an arm weaving around the boy's waist. Kurt didn't think Noah had enough energy to do anything. They'd had a very long day, what with all the traveling, and so as the man reached to stroke him, Kurt shook his head. "What? But baby, I'll feel like a douche if I don't return the favor. I owe you at least a hand job or... something."

"Noah, that blow job was great, but it took a lot out of us. You can return the favor another time. For now, why don't we just go to bed," suggested Kurt, stroking his finger along Noah's cheek as the man relented with a smile, his lips lowering to bestow a soft kiss upon Kurt. The boy did have a point. Come to think of it, he was exhausted and the thought of snuggling up to Kurt in his king sized bed sounded like a very good idea. "Come on, Noah. I'm looking forward to tomorrow when you can show me the grand tour of this place. After all, it is the Hamptons, baby."

**.**

 

**Glee**  

_**.**_

 

_Summer comes, winter fades, here we are just the same_  
_We don't need pressure, we don't need change, let's not give the game away_  
_There used to be an empty space, a photograph without a face_  
_But with your presence, and your grace, everything falls into place..._

A few days after their arrival and the accompanying shower session that had challenged even the hottest of bathroom scenes in most pornographic movies, Noah and Kurt were enjoying their stay in the Hamptons. As the days had passed, Kurt had learned a lot more about the area, or more specifically, East Hampton. It extended north to what was called Springs, a hamlet surrounded by Accabonac Harbor, Gardiner's Bay, and Three Mile Harbor, and what was also interesting was that it was where the painters Willem De Kooning, Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner had once had their homes, now the current location of the Krasner-Pollock Museum. When Kurt had asked for a grand tour, he'd only really meant the house they were staying in and it's gardens, but Noah had gone the extra step and given him the tour of 'America's Most Beautiful Village'.

It truly was a remarkable sight and it wasn't hard to believe that well-to-do summer vacationers frequented East Hampton to escape their busy lives in the city. Noah wasn't the only one, but whilst spending their days in the country, sightseeing, not to mention marveling at some of the other most expensive houses in the country along with hiking along the fields, the beach and anywhere else where fresh air was consumed by the gallon, both Kurt and Noah had each other. They never seemed to stray from one another. Kurt would wake up every morning with Noah spooning him from behind, morning wood like the sun, rising brightly for attention. Whenever Kurt would take a shower, cook, or practice Yoga, Noah would always join him, watch him and round the long days off with him in bed, pleasuring Kurt until his skin was wet and his voice was gone.

Overall, this vacation was shaping up to be quite a pleasant stay. No one knew they were here. Carlson, Carmen and Lola, as far as they knew, still thought he was in Ohio whilst Elite model management, Kurt's agency, had attempted to contact him on numerous occasions, asking not too politely, where the hell he was. Pulling one of the oldest excuses from the book, Kurt had called in sick every time and every time he did; Noah had been impressed with the boy's acting talent. The hoarse throat, the sniffling, the odd sneeze and cough here and there, it was all brilliantly executed, making it all the more baffling why NYADA had rejected the boy. From what the man had seen, Kurt could most likely act his way out of a Chinese prison and not arouse suspicion. It was very entertaining to watch.

Now, after a long day they'd spent indoors, cooking for hours in the kitchen followed by a thorough cleanup once a food fight had erupted from the contents of a Devil's Food Cake they'd attempted to bake, both Noah and Kurt were in the media room, watching Studio Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle. It was the final evening they had in the house before they'd decided it was about time to reluctantly head back to New York. Kurt would miss the Hamptons. He'd spent a lovely time here and considering most New Yorkers escaped here in August, here at the end of October, hardly anyone was around, increasing the sense of seclusion Noah's house had. That was another thing he was going to miss, the house. It was such a beautiful home, one that Noah had admitted he'd like to settle into one day with a future spouse he loved, whomever that may be, and to raise a family, the real American dream.

As soon as Kurt had heard this confession, he'd nodded before looking away. He didn't know if a family or even a husband was in his future. He was young after all, merely nineteen going on twenty next May, but the thought of starting something as traditional, as conventional, and as somewhat cliché as getting married and raising children was something that didn't appeal to him. He'd had similar discussions with Mercedes on the topic back in high school. She'd always hoped to find a man that would be able to withstand her diva like attitude and love her for it, leading to a future full of chocolate babies, but Kurt, he'd always preferred the idea of his wallet being full of disposable income rather than one covered in puke. After all, people had their preferences, but would his change when he met 'the one'? Would they change when he'd fall in love?

"You liking the film, Kurt?"

"Oh yeah, it's good. I've seen most of the studio's films except this one."

"Really? Which one's your favorite?"

"Ooh, that's difficult. I'd have to go with... both Laputa: Castle in the Sky and now this one."

"Oh yeah Laputa, I remember watching that. I was around, I don't know, five or six when I first saw it, and I remember wishing the flying city actually existed with me as its king so that I could command it's power," chuckled Noah as he recalled how silly he'd been. "I thought was it was pretty cool, but then I didn't want to be like that Colonel Muska psycho, so I stopped. Plus, after reading Gulliver's Travels in high school, I found out Laputa kind of sucked. The clothes and buildings were badly made and the chicks cheated on their husbands with the dudes on land. It was really weird."

"I thought women weren't allowed to visit the land below because once they'd arrive, they'd never return," scoffed Kurt, smiling as Noah returned the grin. They were about three quarters of the way through Howl's Moving Castle, but their attentions to the film had now turned in favor of discussing another one, even as Sophie's hat shop was bombed. "In any case, I liked the idea of a flying city, and all the magnetic levitation stuff was a neat touch, but for me, I always thought it represented a force of independence and freedom from the prejudice, judgment and ignorance of Earth."

"Kurt, are you okay? What's brought this on?"

"Oh, it's nothing Noah. Whilst you wished to be the Laputian king, I wished to fly away from the people I didn't like."

"Is there anyone you'd want to fly away from now?"

"There's always going to be someone Noah, and it's the same for everyone, even you."

"Maybe, but I'd kick their asses rather than fly away from them, you know, if they really pissed me off," boasted Noah, retracting his arms from around Kurt and flexing in front him like a bodybuilder, pouting slightly as he kissed both his 'guns' in pride. In response, Kurt could only giggle at the man's silliness whilst subtly biting his lip as Noah showed off his impressive arms. Kurt had always had a weakness for muscled arms. He didn't know what it was about them that he liked so much. They were just so hot. "But seriously Kurt, I know one thing for sure, I don't want to fly away from you. If anything, you'd fly away _with_ me."

"Really?" asked Kurt as Noah nodded in confirmation, the serious expression on his face catching the boy off guard. Noah rarely spoke so deeply about his feelings, except for the times when it was utterly necessary, and instead resorted to pulse a sexual undercurrent equipped with a suggestive smirk and a cheeky wink in the high hopes of playing with Kurt under the covers, but now was not the case. The man had calmed down from his little gun show stint and was eying him with such earnestly after having spoken so sincerely that Kurt began to ponder Noah's increasing attraction to him. "Where would you fly me off to, Noah?"

"Anywhere you'd want to go, baby. Just as long as I have you and you're happy," replied Noah as he once again wrapped his arms around Kurt and kissed him, tasting the boy's sweet accords on his lips. Ever since he'd come to know Kurt, Noah had always pegged him as rather reserved, with a sunny disposition and a trademark wit. He'd encountered him in various moods from content, to embarrassed, to angry and he'd learned of the boy's physically and emotional scarring school life, including the death of his mother, Elizabeth, from cancer. Sometimes, Kurt would refuse to acknowledge the painful past, preferring to ignore it or become ignorant and pretend it wasn't there. Perhaps it was a form of memory rejection or perhaps it was the plea of a boy begging to start his life over with a better chance. How could Noah not hear him.

"Have me? What am I to you, Noah? An object?"

"What? Babe no, I meant-"

"Don't 'babe' me, Puckerman. I now see what you see me as."

"No Kurt, I don't see you as that. I-"

"I know you don't, silly. I'm just messing with you. I'm sorry, but you spoke with such sincerity that I couldn't help myself," giggled Kurt as Noah's panicked face calmed considerably. Teasing Noah had been fun, but truthfully, he'd been uncomfortable with the man's heart felt confession. It was the beginnings of something, an even bigger confession maybe, that he was not ready for. They'd only rekindled their affair a week ago, and Kurt didn't know if he reciprocated Noah's feelings to the same extent. Hopefully he would in time, but now was too soon. "Come on, let's get back to watching the-"

"Oh no we won't. You're paying for that baby. Nobody messes with me and lives to tell the tale," smirked Noah, his voice low and haunting but his eyes twinkling with a mischievous bad boy glint that had Kurt both on guard and turned on at the same time. However, before he could even begin to fathom what the man meant, Noah had pounced him, pinning him to the couch and lifting his polo top, ripe for tickling. Wriggling and squirming, doing anything he could to prevent his impending fate, Kurt laughed as he looked back up at Noah, pleading with a smile. It was no use. With the first touch, he screamed.

"Argh! Noah, stop! Quit it! I- ah! I hate being tickled! Ah!" cried out Kurt, his legs kicking and his arms flailing as he tried with all his might to grab onto Noah's hands, to pull them away from his body before he died from laughter. Again, it was all done in vain. He couldn't use the 'hey, look over there' distraction again. Noah had quickly learned not to fall for it so easily. The only thing left to do was to dislodge the man's balance onto the floor below, and that's just what Kurt did. Suddenly pushing against Noah, Kurt watched as the man fell to the floor as predicted, pulling Kurt on top of him. "Ha! You lose again, Noah!"

"Damn, you always do this to me. Though you know babe, if you want to ride me so bad, all you need do is ask," smirked Noah, Kurt smiling in amusement before moaning as the man lifted his crotch to his ass before rubbing it gently, massaging his growing erection against Kurt's perky behind. Though it wasn't enough to prevent the boy from jumping off him and fleeing the room, laughing away like a maniac as Noah rose from the ground before speeding after him like a bullet. "You can run but you can't hide! I know this house inside and out baby, so I'll be sure to find your sweet ass in no time!"

No time, however, turned into time itself, because as soon as Noah had reached the foyer, Kurt was gone, nowhere to be seen. The boy had had such an advantageous head start along with having been blessed with legs that could run like a freaking cheetah, that Noah hadn't been able to keep up. All he had to go on now was Kurt's taunting laughter echoing somewhere in the distance, resounding off the long corridors in the house, up the high ceilings and across the vast floors until they reached his listening ears. Oh how he was going to get Kurt for this. He was on the freaking Harvard Football team and throughout many a game, he'd successfully tackled guys who'd looked nothing more than seething steroid like monsters. The fact that he couldn't even pin Kurt down was shameful to say the least.

Still, Noah continued to scour the house for the boy. Pushing open doors to empty rooms, he kept a look out for signs of movement. He had the idea of calling out Kurt's name but refrained himself from doing so. He knew if he did, it would only give the boy a chance to run away from him again, and he'd already been made to look, made to stare in the bedroom. He was not going to lose a game of hide and seek in his house, whose blueprints were heavily ingrained in his mind that only a handful of rooms were left. His eyes were searching wildly, his head turning from side to side as a submarine's binoculars as his body was kept on the down low, knees bent and ready to pelt if he spied his upon his chosen prey. Kurt was going to be found and it was going to be soon.

Finally, as Noah returned to the foyer, he looked around. All his senses were fine, but his weren't picking anything up, except for nose. He could smell the burning of wood, the light scent of gas and smoke, and now, he could even feel the heat from the crackling flames as he made his way over to the living room door. Someone had breathed life into one of the many fireplaces in the house and he had a feeling which one. Soon enough as Noah rounded the hallway archway to the living room; his heartbeat quickened and his jaw feel open. There, lying completely in the nude on the fireside rug, was Kurt, the light of the fire flickering streaks of oranges, yellows and reds, bathing him in a myriad of warm colors that encouraged the boy's mouth to spread into a dozy like smile upon seeing Noah.

"You know Noah; you really should reacquaint yourself with the plan of your own home. Who knows who could sneak in and lie upon your floor before the fire...," breathed Kurt, his eyes lidded into a sultry expression as Noah continued to stare at him. That's all the man could do, just stare. He wasn't even sure he'd caught what Kurt had said. Something about reacquainting and lying on the floor and fire. He wasn't sure. After all, his eyes had been stolen by one of the most erotic yet romantic sights he'd ever seen. "Come here, baby. Come to me..."

"Whatever you say," stuttered Noah, walking forward before clumsily stumbling into one of the couch's end tables. Really? Was he really going to relive what had happened that night in his bathroom? He could see, he wasn't blind, though the sight of Kurt giggling before laying a hand on his own body, stroking it from his ankle, up his shin, thighs and onto his source of pleasure was so hypnotizing, that he'd most likely crash into two more pieces of furniture before reaching the boy, and hopefully, he woudn't have a limp to go with. Damn Kurt and his sexy sexiness. "Oh baby... wow... so, hot..."

"It is, isn't it, but I can't be here all on my own, all lonesome like this. I need you, Noah. Come exploit the heat with me," persuaded Kurt, beckoning Noah over with a tempting finger. One by one, Noah's clothes were removed. His tee shirt was peeled off, his belt unbuckled and jeans dropped, and finally his underwear was cast aside in favor of revealing in own body to the fire, the soft orange glow catching the fine treasure trail hairs on the man's navel as well as flattering Noah's muscular physique to the point where Kurt couldn't take it anymore. _He is all man, and he is mine._ "That's it baby, come to me."

Descending to the ground, before crawling his way on top of Kurt, Noah spread the boy's thighs apart with his knees and rested Kurt's legs on his hips. There they looked intently into each other's eyes as the fireside kissing began, but despite the lust that had been shining in both boys' eyes prior to the contact, the kiss was nothing but sweet and docile with no overblown sex drives nearing breaking point or lustful feelings desperate to escape, just passion. Yet there something else Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on. It was something deeper that he'd never experienced before and it both frightened and excited him as his heartbeat raced ever faster in the wake of such affection. The romantic tone of their evening was being set, their final night rounding off in such a satisfying way that the thought of leaving this Hampton heaven that they had entered was almost far too painful to think about.

"I want to thank you, Noah. This Hampton detour was a perfect end to my holiday, even if your hosting skills were... questionable."

"You started that food fight Kurt, but you're welcome. It was nice to finally share this place with a special someone."

"Finally? You've never brought a girlfriend here before? What about Quinn?"

"Yeah, she's been here and so have some other girls, but they've never been special to me."

"None of them? Wow, you must be a tough date to please," giggled Kurt, his mind still trying to come to terms with the fact that Noah Puckerman had not once had a special someone. Kurt hadn't had one either, but he had an excuse, whilst Noah, he had everything. What was wrong with him? Kurt's laughter, however, rapidly subsided as he took in the expression on the man's face, a mixture of adoration and sudden realization glimmering in his hazel eyes. "Are you saying no girl has been able to capture that willful heart of yours, stud?"

"No girl no, but one boy... you, Kurt," answered Noah, staring attentively back at Kurt as blue eyes widened, mouth falling open as the boy unconsciously traveled his hands from the man's arms to his chest, finally landing on Noah's heart. It was a strong heart, a brave heart and it was beating ever so fast, for it was powering a realization that had finally revealed itself with an answer, dawning slowly on Noah that these were the blue eyes he'd always want to drown himself in, those were the lips he'd always want to share his kisses with, and this was the face he wanted to wake up next to for the rest of his life.

"Kurt…" began Noah as Kurt's attention was once again drawn to the man's chest. Noah's heart had hastily quickened it's beats, and it was thumping so loudly the boy could hear it's cries, hear it fit to burst out of its cage the force was so intense. In all honesty, he was surprised Noah wasn't in pain. The man's breath was laboring but as Noah took an intake of breath at the reassuring touch of Kurt's finger's on his heart, he stole the attention of those ocean blue eyes once more in a searing kiss like no other, his soul soaring. "Kurt, I think I've... I think I've fallen in love with you."

_Just please don't say you love me cause I might not say it back_  
_Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that_  
_There's no need to worry when you see just where we're at_  
_Just please don't say you love me cause I might not say it back._


	17. Summertime Sadness

Flash! Flash! Flash! The camera didn't seem to go easy on its flashes. They were repetitive, as if the model in front of them were lying on a long hospital bed being X Rayed before the operation, a surgery perhaps to save their life or to simply make them more beautiful. For Kurt, it was not as if he felt like he were in a hospital or even in a private clinic where New York, L.A. and Miami's wealthiest came to rid themselves of cancer or get a boob job, it was as if he were in a blank white abyss that stretched on for eternity with no one around but him, no one to come and keep him company, or to even save him should he die. For he was currently in a photographer's studio, modeling for something he couldn't actually remember. All he knew was that he'd arrived, and before he knew it, he was being immortalized in pictures.

The photographer operating the camera was one energetic ball of fire, handling his camera as if it were a kid's plaything or a dog's chew toy, the man was everywhere. The stereo was ringing loud throughout the room, the jazz like vibrations of Frank Sinatra swamping everyone with 50s club glamor and the crew in the form of stylists and other magazine representatives had in their hands champagne flutes full to the brim with overpriced champagne. It was as if Kurt were on a stage. Everyone was watching him, their faces anticipating his next pose, what he was doing well, what he was doing not so well, not a single twitch of his body was left unrecorded. His legs had been clad in skin-tight jeans, his feet were bare, his upper torso was bare and all he had to shield his body with was an opaque red scarf that revealed more than it hid.

Perhaps this was just what Kurt needed, to feel bare and to have little to no obstacles blocking his body from shining in front of the camera. It was in this state he could set free his emotions in high glosses pictures, though Kurt knew that the camera wasn't the person he should have been presenting them to, but Noah. At the thought of them man, Kurt winced. That Hampton Holiday had been so wonderful. In fact, for the majority of the time he'd been modeling during this session, he'd been revisiting various tit bits from the vacation. The Devil's Food Cake fight, watching Howl's Moving Castle, Noah confessing his love for him... except that was something he shouldn't have been thinking about. That was the one thing that Kurt had prayed not to think about since what it conjured was almost too much to bear.

After those life-changing words had been uttered to him beside a roaring fire and underneath a heart ready to engulf him with another thunderous beat, Kurt had merely gaped back at Noah. He hadn't known what to say. Well obviously, the thing to say was 'I love you too'. It's what you said whether you meant it or not, just as you said 'yes' to a proposal of marriage you were not ready for despite your love for the other person. Yet, Kurt had replied in no such way. He liked Noah, he respected him, and he hadn't wanted to spit in the face of such trust by lying to a man in such a vulnerable position. Kurt didn't... he didn't love Noah. His crush on the man was crazy hot, but it wasn't love. It just hadn't reached that beacon, one he knew would be stoked into a great fire some day, but that day hadn't been then. It just hadn't.

As a result, Kurt had replied with an unfathomable kiss that had lead on to instigate a series of fireside romps far too inappropriate to be thinking about in front of a camera. The jeans really were that skin-tight. However, even the images of him softy crying out for mercy from the touch of Noah's love raging body were tainted by what had followed afterwards. Once they had finished, Noah had non-verbally given Kurt another chance to say the words, as if he had been persuading the boy to do so in the wake of the sex, but still nothing was said. Nothing. Kurt just couldn't say them. As a result, Noah's once affectionate face fell into once of steel, unshifting, unmoving and ever so cold. Kurt knew there was disappointment, anger and possibly slight heartbreak swimming under the mask, glimmering in Noah's hazel eyes, but no, all masked.

They had packed their belongings and had driven back to New York in Noah's Bugatti Veryon in record speed. It had been an improvement to the BMW they'd original traveled in and it was one of the fastest cars ever made to date. However, whether that was just to show off the car or to get rid of Kurt as fast as possible before an awkward conversation could begin, the boy didn't know. All he had received had been the face, the grunt and the face again. Then, in no less than an hour after they had left the Hamptons, Kurt had been dumped on the sidewalk outside his apartment alongside all his things whilst Noah had sped off into the city, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust fumes and a roaring engine which had seemed to do all the needed talking for the man. No wonder men loved cars so much; their vehicles did all the talking for them.

Since then, Kurt hadn't received a single call, text, anything. However, he hadn't made to contact Noah either. The last time he'd seen the man had been that day and Noah had been in no state to talk in case a huge explosion of frustration for released onto Kurt. For the boy, he knew he'd done something, but also arguably, something good. Oh, but who cared? Everything with him and Noah sucked about now. It sucked, and he'd just have to wait until it blew over. He wasn't going to storm all the way to the man's penthouse and demand an explanation. In fact, he now wasn't going to concern himself with Noah at all. If the man was still seething, then it was only best to leave him be until he had calmed down. Let Noah talk anymore with that sports car and he'd been running Kurt over with it.

With a final flash of the camera, the photoshoot was over. Kurt didn't actually know it had all ended until Bunny, his makeup artist, came up to him to let him know. It was rather embarrassing, but as he was offered to check out the pictures of the photoshoot on one of the Apple iMacs installed near the lights, he shuddered. God knows what he must have looked like, with his head in the clouds, dreamland not that far behind, completely unaware of what was going on. However, much to his surprise, attempting to rocket to cloud nine had just about done the trick. As he looked down at the screen, he noticed rows upon rows of him looking happy, vivacious and free to contemplative, nostalgic and melancholy. The camera had captured his thoughts of his Hampton stay in the lights, and it was, according to the photographer, beautiful.

Beautiful wasn't really the word he would go for, more like dazed, as if he, the photographer and Frank Sinatra had been the only ones in the studio with no one to hold them back, no orders, just complete surrendering to the moment, improvisation. _If only Noah had been the one behind that camera, then I would have only posed for him. One click of that button, and flash! I'd be his forever_ , thought Kurt as after having changed back into his own clothes and signed out, he took the elevator down several set of floors to the large café slap dunk on the middle floor of the skyscraper. It had been a near rooftop photoshoot after all. Stepping out and taking a number of small steps into the high tech café, Kurt looked around. It was back to the black, suits and cigarettes, metal, polished wood, and high-class ladies, now. _Bye bye, Hamptons._

He was due to meet up with Lola for lunch. He hadn't seen the girl since he'd been invited by Noah to the Balencia Ball, and although they had remained in loose contact through texts and the occasional call here and there when he wasn't shutting out the world, it just wasn't the same to seeing her. He needed to see all his friends again. That's what he needed. So ordering himself a Hot Chocolate, raspberry and white chocolate chip muffin from the cashier, Kurt turned around attempted to seek Lola out. Not a baby doll lookalike anywhere. No playground pigtails, no Barbie smile and no summer skirt to speak of amidst high-powered workers on their lunch break. He sighed. It was typical Lola to either be early, fashionably late or appear at some random event she hadn't been invited to.

Sitting himself down by the tall wall length window overlooking the city, Kurt made himself comfortable, rested his chin on his up propped hand lazily and looked the window, his reflection catching his attention. He wasn't wearing any makeup, not even a scrap of it except for ever so light contouring. The photographer had wanted to be 'creative', something Kurt had opposed since his skin was still tired from what had happened with Noah, but eventually with a little coaxing from Bunny, he had relented. After all, they were going to edit them until he resembled someone entirely different anyway, and speaking of someone else, in came his lunch date, Lola, jogging her way over to him as various nerds in suits eyed her with both ridicule and lust. It was an odd combination but only Lola could pull such reactions from her Lolita style.

"Hey Kurt!" exclaimed Lola loudly, reaching his table and bringing him into a big hug whilst Kurt's eyes blew wide as he awkwardly patted the girl on the back. He didn't think she realized that they were in a corporate café where even bear claws and doughnuts were laughed at. He couldn't actually recall they had chosen this place. They could have gone elsewhere like Starbucks or Mangia, but no, this place had been the nearest one to the photoshoot and besides, Mangia would always be a place Noah and he would share together. No one else. "It's been too long, how have you been?"

"I'm well Lola. I would ask how you are but you seem to be as happy as Angel Cake right now," giggled Kurt nervously as eyes all around them pointed their way, looking at them in that snotty judgmental way that only office like them knew how to perfect right down to the very last sneer. It was very disconcerting but he ignored them as Lola took up the chair opposite and smiled happily. "Though Lola, do you mind keeping it down a little. People are looking and after having spent a whole morning having people looking at me, I'd rather not have any more attention than I already have.

"Why do you care?"

"Because they're people."

"But people you don't know and most likely won't ever see again."

"Yes, but still they're people with… eyes."

"Did something happen at the photoshoot? They didn't ask you to do nudes did they?" asked Lola worriedly as Kurt shook his head, a slight smile begging to escape but in the end couldn't. He had been the one to suggest going topless. The prop manager had brought along a range of different clothes and Kurt had been allowed to pick and choose from them all. The see through scarf had just called out to him and he had after Bunny had encouraged his decision, he'd let creation happen with the lens. That lens. Oh how he wished it had been hazel eyes. "Then Kurt, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Noah Puckerman is in love with me," muttered Kurt as he lowered his face to stare deeply into the cocoa depths of his cooling hot chocolate. However, after not receiving a reply, he took note of his friend's unforeseen expression and sighed. "I don't know if Carlson told you this, since that guy really can't keep secrets, but I went back to Lima some time ago to see my dad. Whilst there, Noah came knocking and wanted to talk, we did, but instead of returning to New York as planned, he invited me over to his house in the Hamptons, and it was on the last night there that he said he... loved me."

"Wait a minute, why would he go all the way over to Ohio just to 'talk to you'? I mean you're just friends, right?" inquired Lola as she eyed Kurt carefully for any kind of confirmation. Sure, Carlson had blabbed that Kurt had returned home but there had been no mention of Puckerman anywhere. She desperately wanted to know about it all, yet all she received in response was a look that clinched it all. "Oh my God... you're having an affair? Kurt, how long has this been going on for? You only met the guy like, two months ago. I didn't even know Puckerman was into boys."

"Most people don't, but what I've said as effectively outed him."

"So he... I mean he goes-"

"Both ways yes, but that's not the point."

"Are you sure he didn't just say he loved spending time with you?"

"No, it was a very clear and distinct 'I think I've fallen in love with you', followed by a very clear and distinct round of 'I love you, Kurt''s," recounted Kurt, cradling his hot chocolate for comfort as he gulped at the memories. Lola's face had since morphed into one of utter concentration, giving him her full attention to a story that sounded so unbelievable and farfetched that it might just end up being genuinely believable. "You may doubt what I'm saying Lola, but I know what I heard. No one's ever fallen in love me... that I know of. He's the first, and I'll remember that moment for the rest of my life."

"It's alright Kurt, I believe you. It's just a little hard to digest is all, and I haven't even ordered anything to eat. Gee, I could kill for a bear claw right about now," admitted Lola, turning her head around to eye the counter at the far end of the café. Kurt would have smiled and broken it to her that the only thing they'd served here was anything that wasn't 'brown food'. They weren't on the Upper East Side as far as he knew but the imitation of the place in this café was reek worthy. Turning around, Lola lowered her voice, her eyes soft. "So... after he said he loved you Kurt, what did you say?"

"Nothing... I said nothing. Oh God," sighed Kurt sadly as he brought his hands to his face, his breathing laboring as Lola heard the sounds of sniffling. Kurt didn't want to shed a tear in the midst of others had acted like robots but he couldn't help it. "You should have seen him. There he was, waiting for me to say it back and I just couldn't. There he was, the kind of guy I always imagined myself loving but I still couldn't say it. I don't love him, and he just... he just looked so broken Lola, as if I'd made him fall in love with me and broken his heart at the same time."

"Shh, Kurt it's okay. You weren't ready. It happens."

"I know, but I didn't know it would happen to me. I really like Noah, but now... he resents me."

"Oh Kurt, I don't think he resents you. He's just upset."

"Well he was upset enough to speed all the way back here and dump me on the curve like I were trash."

"Oh Kurt, we'll sort this out. Don't you worry," comforted Lola as Kurt removed his hands from his face, his eyes watering and slightly red rimmed as he used his napkin to dab at them. It hadn't been a full on bawling session, just a little leakage, and as he sniffed once again before thanking the lord he'd ordered such sweet confectionery for lunch, he brought his attention to Lola. The girl was so good. She hadn't freaked out at all but then again, judging others wasn't her style. "Do you want to leave, go somewhere more private, or do you want to stay here and talk about it?"

"I think we'd better leave. Coming here was a mistake," nodded Kurt as he finished of his cocoa, wolfed down his muffin and stood up, both of them collecting their things before hurrying on over towards the elevator. For Lola, she had always sensed Noah had been interested in Kurt. Whether it had been in the form of fondness or something more, she hadn't known. Now, the answer had been revealed, the love of a handsome heir was in the picture and she just hoped that what Kurt had entered was shallow enough to wade out of. "Come on Lola, I'm going to tell you everything."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

"I mean, people called that art? I could have totally made that," scoffed Carmen as both she, Kurt and Lola descended the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art before turning left and making their way into Central Park. None of them had been planning on going to ogle at art for the afternoon, but after taking note of an ending popular exhibition featuring the work of some abstract painter none of them had ever heard of, they'd decided to check it out, mostly to make themselves more intellectual and mostly because the weather outside had the heat of a furnace. "I mean a tower of bricks. Seriously."

"I guess you're not a fan of avant garde art then are you," smiled Kurt as Carmen shook her head. "That's okay, I'm not either. I mean, you'd think people who were are interested in the performing arts and fashion would look at that and not even bat an eyelid, but I'm still trying to come to grips with that... um... you know that white canvas we saw and all it had was black paint splattered across it? Yeah, I'm still trying to figure out whether it was supposed to signify something or if it was nothing more than the artist's disguised arrogant message for those too dim witted to decipher."

"Oh please, they're the dim-witted ones," snorted Lola, Kurt turning to face her as they all journeyed further and further into the park. Kurt had to bless the number of tress around. They were offering him plenty of shade, especially since he'd skipped out on the sunscreen today. Damn New York and its unpredictable weather. "They study for three years at expensive art colleges, learn all the techniques, research all there is to know, everything, and to what, recreate their finger painting days in Kindergarten? I mean, what's the different between an artist who paints like a child and a child's painting?"

"Believe me, only kids could create an endearing 'work of art' of that caliber and pull it off at the same time, but an experienced artist? It's like mutton dressed as lamb but for art," ranted Carmen, "but I guess you can't expect anything less from New York City. Intelligent authors, emotional poets and pissed off playwrights. They all run in the same circles, always trying to squeeze their way into the wealth circuit with the Upper East Side millionaires and Hamptons bachelors who've all sold their souls off to the devil... crap, I'm sorry Kurt. I spoke out of line. Sorry."

Kurt could only flash the girl a forgiving smile in response as they all neared an Tasti D-Lite cart nearby, the need for something sweet almost powering the boy's legs. That's all he ever seemed to eat today, confectionery. After finishing off his muffin and hot chocolate at the café, Lola had invited Carmen along on their New York strolling day to raise his dampened spirits. Kurt hadn't initially planned to for it to be a whole confession like affair but in the end, not only had he let both girls in on everything that had happened since the Balencia Ball, but also on the crush he had once had on Noah back in high school, a secret he'd kept under wraps for years. However in the end, his teenage puppy love hadn't been hard believe. It was what had happened at Noah's penthouse, Kurt's apartment, in Lima and in the Hamptons that had left his friends slack-jawed.

"Why don't you go for French Vanilla, Kurt. You've always struck me as... that kind of flavor," suggested Lola as they ordered their ice creams, Kurt looking over at the girl with a frown as they all made their way over to the Great Lawn. "I'm sorry Doll face. I do believe everything you've said, it's just... I don't know. I'm finding it a little hard to comprehend that you entered an affair with an engaged man behind everyone's backs, and with a man whose as high profile as he is, and in a town you've only lived in for three months, and again with a man you've known for less. Seriously, I could go on forever. The list is endless."

"Lola be quiet, we are in a public park. For all you know the ice cream man may have overheard you," warned Carmen, Lola shrinking slightly into herself as they continued walking along the vast lawn, several baseball games in practice as they spooned their ice creams. "I'm just glad no one else knows about this. I mean, to have done what you and Puckerman have done. You're just lucky that anyone who does know is on your side, otherwise this whole thing could have gone down as the second most scandalous affair in history after Kennedy and Monroe, and we all know how that ended."

"Well then I sure as hell hope Noah doesn't hire the Mafia to come and chloroform me into unconsciousness, strip me naked, administer a deadly enema and then position me to make it resemble a probable suicide," replied Kurt, reaching the other side of the lawn and sitting on the hill, glimmers of sunlight flickering through the leaves of the tree above as they all settled comfortably on the grass below. However, as predicted, Carmen looked over at him in confusion. People always did when they learned of Marilyn Monroe's correct cause of death. "That would be one lousy way to die, that's for sure."

"What are you talking about? Marilyn overdosed on Barbiturates, no one killed her."

"Oh please, everyone suspects the woman was murdered. It's the worst kept secret in the White House."

"Why would they kill her?"

"After she was dumped by Kennedy, she decided to blab to the press about the affair, so they silenced her."

"Well I heard she didn't even have sex with either of the Kennedy brothers because she didn't enjoy having sex with men at all," began Lola, Carmen scoffing yet again as Kurt turned to look at her with interest, his eyes wide. "Something to do with her suffering from bad bouts of endometriosis, and even if she did sleep with men, it would be in the day, standing up because she was afraid of the night or something. That and she had a lifelong fear of pregnancy due to the fact that insanity ran in her family and she feared she would go mad as well."

"Well that's irony for you," smirked Carmen, raising her eyebrows slightly as she looked back over the Great Lawn. Diving her spoon deep into her ice cream tub and cleanly licking it off with one smooth motion, Carmen savored the taste of Dulce De Leche, or at least the whipped flavored air version of it as they went about eating their assorted flavors, Kurt with Strawberry Shortcake and Lola, New York Cheesecake. "Marilyn Monroe, famous for inflaming the libidos of every man on the planet as Hollywood and America's most celebrated sex symbol didn't even like cock."

"I also heard that she slept with other women like Joan Crawford, Barbara Stanwyck, Marlene Dietrich, her two acting coaches, the 16 year old female leader of her fan club and even Elizabeth Taylor," continued Lola, who to Kurt seemed fully engrossed in the conversation. He'd by this moment in time forgotten how on Earth they had come to talk about the late actress. After all, he had called them out to talk about his affair with Noah, not Marilyn's with a collection of her female film rivals. "And I think she may have stalked Judy Garland at a party."

"Ok Lo, you know _way_ too much about Marilyn's fluid sexuality," emphasized Kurt as he lodged his plastic spoon into his ice cream and fixed Lola with a look. It could have worked as well if the girl had actually been paying attention. It seemed as if she'd become so absorbed in the thoughts of lesbianism of a super starlet degree that not even the hot baseball players on the lawn, let alone Kurt, could pull her out of it. _Curse you Marilyn and your sexy sexiness_. "To be honest I don't think she was really a lesbian more like a... free spirit, but anyway can we just go back to my problem?"

"As I was saying," continued Carmen. "Kurt, I know you said Noah claimed he was going to tell his mom about you, he was going to leave Quinn for you and he was prepared to go public with you, but even if you do succeed in all of this, how do you think everyone else is going to react? Mrs. Puckerman may be a democrat but most people in business aren't. They have friends in high political republican places including the Puckerman's very own investors and partners. Announcing this thing you have with Noah might do more harm than good, even worse than when he was playing 'Man Slut of the City'."

"Yeah, Carmen's right Kurt. As much as I want to see this thing work out between you and Puckerman, you've got to think about what's best," nodded Lola, bringing an arm out to pat Kurt on the back reassuringly. "You're both so young and this is all going so fast. Look at Noah, he's already in love with you. It's new, it's exciting and the way you've kept it behind closed doors is like... a dirty little secret. I mean, I get it, it's thrilling, and no doubt for Puckerman it's the greatest thing since his first orgasm, but both of your eyes are blind to the outcomes of something that both of you could regret for years to come."

"I'm not blind to the outcomes, I just don't want to think about them," replied Kurt. "God, this is why I should let people in more often. By outcomes, I've always thought that they would result in Noah and I never being allowed to see each other again. It never even crossed my mind that it could affect his company or come to think of it, my job. See, if we'd had this discussion before I returned to Lima then I'd never have got back together with him, but I can't do that now, because the freaking man has fallen in love with me. Urgh, why does this whole thing have to feel so good when it's so bad?"

"Oh honey, they design it that way. It could be even worse if you yourself returned his love."

"That's the problem though. At the rate everything's going at, I'm going to soon."

"That's why you need to slow down, take a breather and think exactly about what you want from all of this."

"I just want to be with him."

"Well then, I say you stick by your man and just face the outcomes together head on, whatever they may be," smiled Lola comfortingly, Kurt returning the expression as they all looked over the Great Lawn. It was a beautiful day, and the boy could only think that if he'd said the right words that night in the Hamptons, maybe he'd be with Noah right now, just like old times. "If in the end everything works out well, great, but if not, at least you've had a good time with him. You have all those great memories to remember him by, outside Lover boy's Love-nasium and in."

"Okay Lola, that was inappropriate. Can't you sense the tone of this conversation? We're trying to figure out what do here not start wondering what the two of them got up to in Puckerman's 'love-nasium'," whispered Carmen harshly, Lola rolling her eyes in frustration as Kurt returned to eating his ice cream with maybe a little more force and concentration than was necessary. He needed something to cool him down fast because he'd been dreading this question. Answering it once to Mercedes was quite enough. "But just out of curiosity Kurt, how was he? You know, in his... humble chamber."

"Guys!" exclaimed Kurt as he made quick to swallow his latest chunk of ice cream before looking over at both his friends in an incredulous fashion. Sure, if he'd been in the mood, along with being heavily alcohol intoxicated, he might have revealed the various bedroom antics he and Noah had taken part in, but with various mothers pushing strollers nearby and kids screaming and running around all over the place, their innocent faces shining bright, now was really not the time to be talking about his sex life. "This is not a suitable conversation. We are in a public park for heaven's sake, where is your sense of decency?"

"Screw decency, I want to know whether he lived up to his reputation or not," dismissed Lola, putting down her ice cream tub and turning her whole body to face him, Carmen annoyingly doing the same. There Kurt was, being caught in between these two horny girls, wanting to know if the man he'd been secretly seeing was really all talk or not. However, the truth was, there was so much more to it all. Women abusing Noah's position, Noah's impressive endowment, everything. "Does he have a big dick? Oh, did you ride his big cock and fuck him till both your eyes rolled back in your heads?"

"Was it all sweaty from the constant writhing?" giggled Carmen, Kurt pulling a pained face before burying it into his hands, both girls laughing with other as he groaned. Yes, it had been sweaty many a time. In fact, sweat had been the main giveaway to their first romp in the first place. Neither girl had any idea how much sweat had gone into every sexual encounter both he and Noah had engaged in, yet how many a time exactly was that? Kurt couldn't recall. "Was your headboard fiercely knocking up against the wall till the thought of it breaking actually crossed your mind?"

"Stop! Seriously guys, just stop. If you must know, Noah and I haven't... slept together that way yet."

"Really? Then what have you been doing?"

"Well we've... um... I mean, I've beat him off and er... I've blown him and-"

"Has he reciprocated, or has it just been you doing all the work? I thought it was supposed to be the other way round with this man."

"Well, it's not like he's not attracted to my body, it's just that for many years he's slept with women, and so he knows how to please a woman, but when we first did it, he was faced with something completely different. He didn't know what to do and it was embarrassing for him, especially since he was a self acclaimed pro before hand," replied Kurt. "It'll take time. He's in the midst of embracing his bisexuality and he is learning. I have been showing him what... pleases me and he's taken it all in. In fact, the last couple of times we did it, I wasn't the one who initiated it, he was."

"No kidding. I bet as soon as he got the general gist of it, he went full steam ahead," giggled Lola as Kurt ducked his head and smiled down into his lap, his fingers cradling his ice cream tub. "Kurt, I'm telling you now, that man is a keeper. You must have done something right if he's fallen for you. I mean, now that he has, he'll be pretty much open to do anything you want. Not that I'm encouraging you to take advantage of his feelings but you know, if you want to go a little deeper into the bedroom, I'm sure it won't take long to convince him."

"Like that's ever going to happen," snorted Carmen. "Now that Puckerman knows Kurt doesn't return his feelings to the same extent, he's probably reverted back into a self conscious and unsure state of not knowing what to do. You know what happens when the other person doesn't say 'I love you' back? The relationship is reduced to a thread like lifeline, or at best, trapped in limbo. Either the second person confesses their love in the space of about a week or they don't and they break up. With Puckerman, it might be different considering how insatiable he is, but who knows."

"Thanks C, that's really helpful right now. The worse about all this is, I don't know what he's thinking. I haven't been able to contact him since that day, I have no idea what he's doing. For all I know, he could have moved on from me and I wouldn't even have a clue," replied Kurt. "You know, ever since I came to New York, I've used my head instead of my heart. I used it to help me decide to do modeling, I've used it on three separate occasions against Noah when he's wanted to start things up, but the one time I should have used my heart, even if it wasn't true, was then, and I didn't."

"Don't blame yourself Kurt, you're only hurting yourself," soothed Lola, looking at Kurt before allowing her eyes to drift once again over the Great Lawn. However, she gasped in shock as what she saw before her was far from convenient. On the other side of the lawn, strolling nonchalantly along the green, was none other than Noah Puckerman, hand in hand with his blonde fiancée Quinn, his siblings Sarah and Jake Puckerman following closely behind them. Wasn't it always the way? You talked about someone and they showed up. "Kurt, you've finished with your ice cream right? You want to go?"

"Well, I thought we could just stay here and... oh," trailed Kurt, finally catching sight of his wealthy lover in the company of his blushing bride to be. His heart dropped. If what he was seeing before him was correct, then so were his predictions. Noah had returned to Quinn, to his family and everything else whilst at the same time, shunned Kurt aside, all made known with just a casual outing in the park. There they all were in the New York sun, Jake and Sarah bickering as the kids they were whilst Noah and Quinn engaged in a light hearted conversation, whispers in the ear, the tracing of the thumb, everything. "Get me out of here."

"Yeah, let's do that. We can leave without them noticing."

"Well we're going to have to be quick, they're coming this way."

"Crap, okay... um... let's take the pathway behind us down to the Delacorte Theater."

"What about out our ice cream tubs?"

"There's a trash can nearby, come on. Less chatting, more moving! Let's go!" ordered Carmen as all three of them launched themselves up from their sitting positions on the ground, and joined the pathway behind them. Dumping their Tasti D-Lite tubs in the trash as Carmen had indicated, they all but power walked down the park. However, they would have made better time if only their route hadn't been riddled with obstacles in the form of strollers, runners, slow moving couples and general midday mayhem. They were everywhere and it was last think Kurt needed. He was already finding it hard to breath. So hard.

As they journeyed, and as both Lola and Carmen eyed him with worry, Kurt stole another fleeting glance over the Great Lawn. The Puckerman clan were still there, happy as ever, but now they were all engaging in a fun game of tag, running around, their shouts of excitement blending into the cries of the baseball players all around them. They truly looked like the perfect family, and it was tearing Kurt apart every second he allowed himself to look. He was glad he did though. The pain he was feeling was not in vain, because as he took notice of Noah chasing Quinn, her screams of laughter loud and beautiful, he realized that all that stood between them was only now several meters of grass, trees and various other assortments of foliage. How had the distance closed so quickly? Yet despite this, Kurt had never felt more far away from Noah. Ever.

"Quick, behind this tree," instructed Kurt, grabbing a firm hold of both Carmen and Lola and pulling them over to the nearest tree by the pathway. Both girls' eyes were wide as they looked back at him intensely, as if asking what the hell was going on through sight. Signaling with a nod of the head, Kurt directed their eyes to where they'd just come from on the path, and as predicted, both Carmen and Lola peeked around the tree and withheld their shocked gasps. Noah and his Puckerman posse had indeed reached their side of the Great Lawn, not quite reaching the pathway, but definitely too close for comfort. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"We'll just to wait it out until they go away, or we can try to walk up this way and through the trees until we reach the road up ahead, something I really don't want to do. I only bought these cute shoes yesterday, See?" voiced Lola, motioning with her head down to the admittedly adorable pair of white stilettos on her feet. They weren't exactly the traditional form of footwear for a heatwave like day in October, but it was Lola. She had an excuse. "Besides, what is Puckerman doing back with Fabray? I thought you said he didn't like her, plus didn't you say he was going to leave her."

"Leave her for who? Kurt? After what's happened in the Hamptons Lola, you really think that's going to happen now?" replied Carmen as she neared her head to those of the others. "Look I have to say this and this may hurt you Kurt, but what did you think would happen? He's already skydived off a cliff with saying 'I love you' only to crash land on some rocks when you didn't say it back. He's not going to want to take any more risks if he thinks you are not going to there with him, feeling for him as he feels for you. To be honest, what we've seen is only to be expected."

"Skydived off a cliff only to crash land on some rocks, Carmen? I know you're telling me how it is with your freakishly accurate psychological thinking mind but please, ease up on the all too colorful language. I'm hurting here enough as it is," moaned Kurt as Carmen threw him an apologetic smile, all three them forever cursing the ridiculous situation they were in. Talk about a lovely afternoon gone family movie type wrong. "Instead of getting all analytical on me, why don't you help us figure out what the hell we're going to do. We can't just wait it out; they're probably setting up picnic camp near us as we speak."

"I know! I've got an idea," cried out Lola suddenly, as Kurt and Carmen hurriedly shushed her with a finger. They couldn't risk anything giving them away right now, and though it was high time both Kurt and Noah had a little heart to heart talk about everything that was going on, the appearance of Quinn had shaken everything off its axis. The boy just wanted to be elsewhere, anywhere where else but here, where the sight of the future Puckerman couple wasn't as potent to the mind. "Carmen and I will just run past them playing tag which will divert they're attention giving Kurt a change to escape."

"He's met us before, Lola, remember? I met him outside Creed and you met him here in this very same park, and unlike him, we're not wearing shades," replied Carmen dryly. "Besides, we're too old to play playground games. It's just childish and immature. Plus I can just imagine a fed up dad filming it on his phone and uploading it to YouTube where it will become viral with the title 'Hot Girls Playing Stick in the Jell-O' or something equally degrading that will have audiences ranging from either hormonal teenage boys or creepy old men pleasuring themselves to. My God, it's too sick to even say it."

"Well unless you can come up with a better plan, you're just going to have to go with Lola's."

"Yeah, go with mine, it'll be so much fun. We can play Cops and Robbers. I'll be the Robber and you be the Cop. "

"How about no."

"The old clock's a tickin' C. What's it going to be?"

"Oh God, now she's rhyming," moaned Carmen, looking around the trunk of the tree. Noah and his entourage hadn't moved since they'd last checked up on them, but their tree was slam-dunk in perfect view, not they were looking this way. Though, it would only be a matter of time. However instead of updating the others of the family, Carmen couldn't help but notice the happily chatting couple, Quinn's face full of life as Noah looked down at her with warmth _._ In her opinion, the look wasn't nearly as warm as the one given to Kurt outside Creed. Nothing could recreate real love after all. She could see it.

"Just go already. I'll meet up with you guys later," ordered Kurt harshly as he shoved Lola from behind the tree, the girl nearly tripping over her heels as she screamed in delight, her theater skills coming out in full force as if the curtain to an opening night's performance had just been raised with her as the leading starlet wowing the audience with just a million dollar smile. Pushing a hesitant Carmen with a little more force than he had with Lola, Kurt smiled apologetically back at the girl as she flashed him an irritated look before running after the blonde, the two actresses laughing in the sun's spotlight.

After several seconds had passed, Kurt peeped out from around the trunk and observed Lola's plan in action. It seemed to be working for the most part. Not only had they both caught the attention of Noah and Quinn but others around the vicinity as well. No one knew what the hell they were doing with some looking around to see if this was part of a reality TV show or just two young women messing around, because as very much to Carmen's prediction, both girls looked utterly ridiculous, but it was an excellent distraction. Kurt now had the opportunity to flee but whilst he did, Noah continued to eye the girls with a curious expression, the two familiar figures running past him as they ran across the Great Lawn. He knew those girls. He'd met them once before, both in the company of someone he very much knew.

Tearing his eyes away from both girls, Noah scanned the area for that someone, but no sight of him met his eyes. Quinn on the other hand, was still watching the two batty girls garner more attention as they distracted the likes of all the baseball players, boys and men around, including Noah, who had sported a look as if he'd tried to remember where he knew them from. Quinn didn't want to know from where, but she had a clear idea, however as she tore her eyes away to look back up at her handsome fiancé, she noticed his attention was now elsewhere. He was searching the vicinity with intent eyes as if he were now looking for something or someone, and no amount of six inch 'come fuck me' heels or streams of dangerous red hair could deter his attention.

Of course she was happy that Noah wasn't lusting over them, biting his lip and readjusting a certain something down there but yet it was odd of him not to have been even in the slightest bit interested. She was just about to inquire if there was anything wrong or if maybe he'd like some Tasti D-Lite from the ice cream cart coming their way, when Noah's breath hitched. The man had spared a final scan when out from behind a tree ahead bolted a figure. It was running from them both, skilfully dodging the many pedestrians along the way and although Noah couldn't see their face, he knew very well who they were. His hazel eyes were widening, his heart beat faster and his lips were being bitten, but not out of lust, but to prevent himself from screaming after the retreating figure who was hurting him with every step they took, every step into disappearance.

_Kurt…_

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Fitting the key into his door lock, Kurt trudged through the threshold and into his apartment. Placing his light blue satchel by the end table in the hallway, he proceeded towards the kitchen, his mouth parched for water. After he had fled from Noah and Quinn in Central Park, he hadn't known what to do with himself. His afternoon had been effectively ruined; he hadn't met up again with Carmen and Lola after their little stunt despite telling them he would, and his body inside and out was just aching from exhaustion. The heat from the sun as well as all the drama had stripped him dry of any energy and he'd spent the remains of his time, sitting on his apartment building steps, fiddling with his fingers and casually watching the occasional car or person walk by with a face that broke out into nothing but an expression of misery.

He hadn't enjoyed running away from Noah. He hadn't enjoyed using both Carmen and Lola as distractions to get away from the man. When Kurt had first seen him from across the Great Lawn, his heart had begun to flutter so anxiously and his hands had been shaking so dangerously that he was surprised he hadn't catapulted his ice cream tub up into the air and allowed the remnants of Strawberry Shortcake confectionery to land messily onto his hair. However, even that sticky thought hadn't been enough to deter him from the picturesque sight that had played before him. Noah and Quinn, again looking like the perfect couple with his siblings, that if you ignored the fact that they were his younger brother and sister, were their children running wild, creating the image of the perfect traditional American Family... and then there was him.

Kurt. Kurt Hummel. The modelling world's angelic new living and breathing mannequin, a pretty human formed clothing rack who was now sweeping their runways, posing within their studios and stunning the world on glossy magazines of Vogue like stature and prestige. This boy, with his virgin white skin, innocent blue eyes and a precious pout that anyone would want to corrupt had already been named 'Most Beautiful Face of 2012' and was buzzing to beat Cara Delavigne's crown of 'Best Model of the Year'. Kurt had had to harden himself to the idea of being worth looking at after so much time as the boy who had hardly been there in anyone's eyes, yet all this attention to his supposedly goody too shoes outside shell was nothing but insignificant in the wake of knowing that the one person he wanted looking at him, didn't want to anymore.

With that in mind, what was the point of being beautiful? It wasn't a necessity in this world, yet it was something society nowadays just couldn't live without, and what was the point in love, when someone nearly always got hurt? Was that the pain was so good that it was addictive or was it merely something glamorized again by society? There wasn't a point in love, that was just it. It was nature's class A drug, intoxicant, and sweet poison that ruined people's lives. Kurt knew he was being bitter but how else was he supposed to feel in his situation? Carmen had been right in thinking that if his affair with Noah was blown wide open; it could potentially end their lives as they knew them, but that was only if there was to be an affair to speak about any more. Revealing anything now was out of the question.

However back in Central Park, whilst Kurt had fled from behind his tree and into the concealment of nature's foliage, he had allowed himself another fleeting look at the man who loved him. Kurt hadn't been expecting Noah's attention to come his way, thanks to the girls, but when it did, he'd almost lost his footing. Ray-Ban shades had descended onto him and although he couldn't make out those hazel eyes, he knew Noah's gaze was upon him once more. It was a gaze Kurt could sense, one of adoration, longing, but above all, hurt. What he had done had really hurt Noah's feelings. A beautiful bludgeoning that hadn't gone easy on the heart, and only seemed to increase his own guilt. No doubt he'd now ruined Noah's afternoon. He didn't mean to flatter himself, but he knew Noah's mind was on him now rather than on Quinn, or anyone else.

Another secret not made known to many, or to no one at all, was that Kurt had fallen in love back in high school. It had been young love, an extreme case of puppy love gone wrong as it had shot up through the skylight dome of affection, an experience Kurt hoped never to experience again. It had turned out that the boy he'd liked had been straight, so straight in fact that he had been known primarily for his overbearing heterosexuality, which had carved a way into most girl's hearts, much like his own. After that, he had promised never to allow himself to be so easily carried away, for he may not have known what love was, but if it were anything like he had experienced, it was pain. Pain that he needed to fix right now with a glass of water and good old deep fried, butter covered American comfort food. Lord knew he was in need of it.

"Hi, I'd like to order a Margarita Pizza please. West 98th, Riverside Drive, Apartment 4. Thank you," ordered Kurt, leaning against the counter and scuffing his foot against the other. He'd meant to order from a local Pizzeria since this neighborhood was absolutely riddled with them but in the end, he'd relented to order from Mangia, where the risk of piling on the calories wasn't as high. People were known to gain weight during relationship drama, as well as max out their credit cards on the economy, but he was not going to do that, no. Well maybe shop, but that was about it.

As he put the phone down, Kurt casually sipped on his water before entering the living room. The light from the sun was dimming and the late afternoon was quickly opening its doors to the evening. As he sat himself down on his couch, Kurt stared down at his glass before standing up again and raising it to the ceiling. Here was to another night of being all by himself. No friends to mindlessly banter with, and no Noah to snuggle up against. He sipped at it before sighing and falling back onto the couch, the glass now resting on the coffee table. So he wasn't addressed. Who cared? There wasn't anyone to address him, so who cared? _I do_ , he thought as he continued to wait for his forty-five to sixty minute delivery, his phone suddenly ringing as he did. _I do..._

"Hey Carmen."

"Don't 'hey Carmen' me Doll Face, what happened to you? I thought we were going to meet up afterwards."

"We were, but I just wasn't in the mood. Not that I'm not appreciative for what you and Lola did for me."

"You better be. I nearly got pinched by some pervert and Lo's right heel broke off before she fell, three times."

"Oh God, you guys I'm so sorry. I'll be sure to buy her a new pair and as for that pervert, well, I'm sure you gave him what for," giggled Kurt as he could begin to imagine how that must of turned out. He didn't know where Carmen got it, maybe it was something only red hot headed babes like herself only possessed, but when someone abused the assets, the girl would bring a whole other meaning to the word feisty. "However, you'll be happy to know that despite the high ridicule factor in Lola's plan, I managed to escape, but I think Noah saw me."

"What? Don't tell me Lo and I mortified ourselves for nothing! We were the ones who had to act as total fools whilst you were the one who just had to run from behind a freaking tree without being seen! How hard is that?" Exclaimed Carmen loudly as Kurt winced at the sheer volume in her voice. She was annoyed and Kurt just didn't know what to say. "I knew it was a bad idea. The reason why I didn't like it was mainly because he would recognize us which would make him think you were around or nearby, and now you're saying he saw you. He's probably caught on to what we were all really doing."

"C, I've just ordered a large pizza. Doesn't that already indicate how terrible I feel," moaned Kurt, planking on the couch as he buried his face into the cushion. Now he felt like having fries on the side, with a burger, and a hot dog and a pie. Oh God, he needed help. "I used to be so good at keeping the carbs at bay but since coming to the city, my barriers are breaking down. Don't be surprised if next time you see me I'll be in the midst of being air lifted out of my crushed bed, being cut out of my own doorway with the Jaws of Life or rolling down the catwalk, flattening every rich bitch out there."

"Don't worry, Kurt. Carlson, Lola and I will all weight watcher you from those dinner lady arms. Just eat a slice tonight and save the rest for tomorrow."

"Good plan. I'm only one tiny person."

"Or you could share it with someone else. Want me to come over? Misery loves company."

"Not this misery C. I need to be by myself and my expanding stomach tonight."

"Alright, you can have tonight Doll Face, but remember, you owe me. Lola gets new shoes, so I want something to. It's only fair since I'm counting the hours it takes for my face to appear on YouTube's most popular videos which for everyone's sakes, I better get paid for," replied Carmen as Kurt smiled, even more appreciative for the girl's attempt at lightening the somber mood. However before he could reply with a comment regarding what kind of present she'd like, a knock rattled Kurt's door. Whipping his head towards the hall, he frowned. It couldn't be his pizza. It had only been ten minutes.

"Got to go, C. Someone's at my door and I'm hoping it's Mangia with my two thousand calorie intake for the night. I'll call you tomorrow, bye," parted Kurt as he hung up before jumping off his couch and into the hall. Swiping up his wallet from his satchel, he pried ten dollars from its depths before opening the door and halting immediately. From loose fingers, his bank notes fluttered to the ground at his feet as his mouth went dry, his eyes grew wide and his legs went numb. For there before him now was him, the man from the park, the man from the Hamptons and the man who loved him unfathomably.

_Noah..._


	18. Intimate Twilight

"Why did you run from me?" asked the man before Kurt, his voice dead serious as any as his hazel eyes bore into pools of blue. His stance was defiant, grounded, and steady. He wasn't going to go anywhere until the question was answered and as a result, Kurt could only flicker his mind for an answer that wouldn't render the situation worse, though it was difficult. Noah was suddenly here in his doorway, without any prior warning, here, his mood festering with anger. "I saw you Kurt, and I saw the little fake ass game of tag your friends were playing. I guess that was meant to distract me? Nice going."

"Well I couldn't very well greet you in public with Quinn on your arm and your siblings in tow after what we've been doing behind their backs now could I, and considering how we left things, I wouldn't have thought you'd even have acknowledged me if I had," replied Kurt sarcastically. "I may have run from you Noah, but so did you, and you left a mark behind when you did. Want to know whose skid marks those belong to outside? You. Once you kicked me to the curb, you sped off and now every time I leave or enter my apartment, I'm reminded of what you did, because there they are."

"Are you saying this is all my fault?" asked Noah incredulously as he pointed to his chest in annoyance, his voice rising towards the end. Kurt didn't want to begin accusing anyone. He didn't want to name names but technically, Noah had been the one to start it all. Even if Kurt hadn't said what he ought to have said, slicing open this gash in their affair, Noah hadn't reacted well and had therefore made it worse by further ripping it open to the state it was in now. "Fuck you Kurt, you're the one who lay there on that mat and didn't say anything! I threw myself out there and you left me to fall as if my feelings didn't mean shit!"

"I didn't leave you to fall, I was still there. I stayed with you."

"Yeah, and your plan on having sex afterwards was supposed to make me what? Forget? Another one of your fucking distractions?"

"Noah, your feelings do mean something to me, I just... I-"

"You just don't love me, I get it. Maybe if you did you'd understand."

"For heaven's sake Noah, I'm sorry if I don't return you're affections, but we can't sync our feelings together!" Cried out Kurt in exasperation, turning away from the man and rushing into the refuge of his bedroom, Noah entering and closing door as he closely followed him. "It would be ideal, yes, but this is no rom-com movie or sappy TV show where characters just happen to be in love with each other at the same time! This is the real world, we live in reality and in it people fall in love at different stages! You fell for me first, but that doesn't mean I'm not still falling for you!"

"You're... you're what?" Muttered Noah, halting in the bedroom doorway as Kurt threw himself onto his bed. The man's anger seemed to dissipate with each passing second and he almost felt the need to lean on the doorway frame for support when he came to realize how stupid he'd been. He would hit himself repeatedly over the head for having overreacted. He had panicked and jumped to conclusions and now look at what it had cost him, emotional distress for both him and Kurt. All because he hadn't been patient. "Kurt... you're falling in love with me? Look at me. Look at me, Kurt!"

"Yes I am, Noah! Now what are you going to do? Not believe me, drive me off downtown, dispose of me on some street and then proceed to ignore me for days on end now that I've admitted such a thing too late?!" Shouted Kurt, his voice wavering as he sat upright form his bed and turned on Noah. "I've not fallen in love with you yet Noah, but I'm well on my way, and I'm sorry if I've ruined your naïve image of a Disney fairytale confession of love you were hoping for but I can't face heartbreak again! That's right, I've been in love before Noah, and my heart fucking broke because of it!"

"Kurt, I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't know. You never told me about this," whispered Noah, approaching Kurt slowly as the boy attempted to control his panting and shortness of breath. Though said boy could only look down and close his eyes as he tried desperately to compose himself, to gather up any shred of dignity he had left from revealing such a secret. However, feeling the dip in the mattress next to him, he looked up into the eyes of the man who desperately wanted to know what he had just admitted, for this was deep, a repressed memory that had been let loose. "When... when were you in love?"

"It was years ago when I was in high school, before I met Blaine and before I began to think with by head instead of my heart," began Kurt, whisking away stray hairs from around his face as Noah shuffled closer, settling himself comfortably near him. "Remember, when I told you about the huge crush I once had on a boy at my school? How I said I got a record amount of tardies just for waiting for him to meet me at my locker before morning homeroom? Well, that was all a lie. The boy didn't go to my school. He didn't live in my state. We didn't even know each other but yet I still fell for him. Noah... he was you."

"Me?" asked Noah, placing a hand over his chest and watching as Kurt stared down at his plushy duvet, his blue eyes unmoving until with a slight intake of breath, the boy nodded in confirmation. In response, Noah's own eyes could only widen in a mixture of unmitigated shock and jumping for joy like surprise. Kurt had once been in love with him, and by the sounds of it, not too long ago. He'd always been under the impression that neither of them had known what love was when they'd first met, but now they both did, and oh how it had brought emotional turmoil down upon them both. "Go on, Kurt. Please."

"Some time after seeing you on TV for the first time I knew I liked you, which grew into a crush and eventually, love," continued Kurt. "It was the oddest feeling and although it felt great at first, it hurt more. All those pictures of you with girls, stories about you clubbing with them and bringing them back home with you, it tore me apart. Not only because I wasn't one of them but because it reinforced how straight you were and how carelessly I had allowed my feelings to lead me on. I swore to myself there and then that I wouldn't allow my heart to lead me astray so easily again."

"But... I'm not straight Kurt. You know what I'm into."

"I didn't know that then, Noah. Nobody did, not even you."

"Yeah, but the girls, I didn't feel for them. They were just... there."

"That I knew, but it didn't stop being painful."

"Oh Kurt, come here," replied Noah as he held his arms out and guided the hesitant, delicately framed boy to reluctantly climb into his lap and rest his body against his chest, Kurt's head with a forest of chocolate locks laying in the crook of his neck. "You should have told me this. All those times when you were distant I always thought you didn't like me or you didn't want anything to do with me, like at the Padova, when you believed that story in the park and when I came to Lima to beg you to come back to me. I guess I could have understood you more if I'd known this. It wouldn't have made me so paranoid over you."

"I'm so sorry Noah for messing you around, but you have to understand. You're in love with me and after I didn't say it back, you felt pain, the pain of unrequited love and that was the same kind of pain I went through over you for a whole year until it left me," explained Kurt as he looked up at Noah. "After that, I didn't think the pleasure I got out from love was worth all that pain. It was too top heavy, so I hardened my heart, guarded my feelings and began to think sensibly with a clear head, though I kept the memory, just to remind me of what could happen if I ever went with my heart again."

"I made you suffer unrequited love for a whole year? Damn, how did you do it? How did you cope, Kurt? I mean what I've been feeling for the past few days has been properly painful, it fucking kills and to go through it for twelve months? I don't think I'd be able to do it," replied Noah. "However, through all this fucking pain I've learned that sometimes you just can't deny what the heart wants, Kurt, and if you do, it'll break and it will leave you hallow with your body as nothing but a shell. You're lucky you made it through in one piece but for me, my heart will have you or nothing. I love you, Kurt."

"Why?"

"You can't ask why about love."

"You can't?"

"No, Kurt. There is no questioning it, there is no explaining it and there is no reasoning with it, it's love."

"Well in that case, I better not stop falling back in love with you otherwise your heart is done for, and you have no idea how much more painful this love business can all get if I were to leave you for my own sake," whispered Kurt as Noah's smile that he had been sporting just a few seconds ago, disappeared in a flash so quick the boy knew his words had struck the man hard. To Noah, the idea of suffering pain more horrific than what he had gone through already according to Kurt, who had had first time experience with it all, was enough to whiten his tanned skin considerably. "Noah, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. It's just... It's just now I know I'm never going to risk losing you again over something just because I was too impatient and stubborn for my own good," replied Noah. "It's probably why you felt the need to actually run from me back in the park, right? You said back at my place in the Hamptons that you ran from people you didn't like and after the way I treated you, no wonder you ran away. I deserved it, I was an asshole to you and I'm sorry. Knowing you put all that effort into trying to leave that park without me seeing you, it was as if my heart was being thrashed with a club, and I deserved it."

"I didn't run from you because I didn't like you Noah, I ran from you because the second I saw you with Quinn, I had to get out of there. Despite what you said to me about leaving her and what happened in the Hamptons, there you were laughing and smiling with her hand in yours as if you'd never known me," whispered Kurt. "All of you together conjured the perfect image of a perfect family, something I know you want in the future, and there I was on the sidelines reliving the guilt I had when Anita shouted at me. The other man, the home wrecking villain in your life play starring you and Quinn."

"Kurt, look at me. We're not going to have this discussion again, I won't let it happen. We broke up once over this and only after epically failing cold turkey did I get us back together. I don't want us to go through all that again, it was stressful enough," replied Noah determinedly as Kurt nodded in agreement. "Yes, I was with Quinn earlier this afternoon, but you've been on my mind for days Kurt, thinking did I go too fast, too far? Have I fucked up the best thing that's ever happened to me? But I was too pissed to call you, I was... Christ, I was fucked up."

"Really? Noah, I was thinking the same thing. God knows how long that silence would have gone on for if not for what happened today. I missed you so much," gushed Kurt, bringing his lips to Noah's and trying to make up for all the days that had passed without a single touch of affection. However, as he felt a drop of something on his cheek, he pulled back to notice Noah crying. His hazel eyes were watering and a tear had landed on Kurt's pale cheek, prompting the boy to lift a finger and remove another teardrop that escaped from those brimming eyes. "Noah, it's alright. I'm here, I'm right here."

"Good, because I missed you too and I don't want you to ever leave me Kurt... I beg you, don't leave me," pleaded Noah, his arms wrapping themselves ever more tightly around Kurt's waist before bringing him in closer for another crashing kiss. The boy could understand how valuable he was in Noah's life now that the man was in love with him. Love just did that to people. However, this love was different. Whilst Kurt's had been the result of his teenage hormones overdosing on puppy love, Noah's was purely unconditional, almost on the brink of desperation, loss being the ultimate defeat.

_You tell me you're in love with me, like you can't take your greedy eyes away from me_  
_It's not like I don't want to stay but every time you come too close I move away_  
_I want to believe in everything that you say 'cause it sounds so good_  
_But if you really want me, move slow, there's things about me you just have to know..._

As Kurt had ended their fervent kiss and laid Noah's head to rest this time on his shoulder, the sound of music slowly began to rock the man out of his embarrassing blubbering state. Kurt was singing. He had removed his hand that had been on Noah's shoulder and had brought it to the man's head, starting at the top and bringing his palm down softly along Noah's buzz cut, skin on fine hair before finally resting at the nape of his neck where it sat their comfortably. Lifting his head from Kurt's shoulder, Noah looked straight into the boy's eyes and did not for a second stray his gaze. Kurt never ceased to amaze him sometimes. He just seemed so accomplished. He looked like an angel, he could dance like an angel, and now he could sing like an angel, a song that seemed so appropriate for what had transpired in this room tonight.

_Sometimes I run, sometimes I hide, sometimes I'm scared of you but all I really want is to hold you tight_  
_Treat you right, be with you day and night, baby all I need is time..._

Re-wakening his hand as if it had fallen asleep on the slope of Noah's neck, Kurt slid it down to the front of the man's chest until it reached the area above his heart. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounded steady but its movement, the feeling of its large size beating at a tempo surely considered unhealthy by a number of doctors was evidence to the contrary. In fact, both of their hearts had been racketing inside their rib cages since the first knock on Kurt's door and now that attention was brought to them, Kurt was now remembering why Noah's love muscle was one of the most romantic and intimate areas to even touch on the man's body. He could feel it beating and it brought him comfort knowing that whenever he positioned his hand even close to it, it would always quicken. There were as many loves as there were hearts. This was one of them.

_I don't want to be so shy but every time I wonder why_  
_I hope you'll wait for me because you'll see you're the only one for me_  
_I want to believe in everything that you say 'cause it sounds so good_  
_But if you really want me, move slow, there's things about me you just have to know..._

Looking down at where Kurt had placed his hand over his chest, Noah glanced down at its final resting place before looking back up at Kurt and giving himself up, his whole being to that lovely voice. The boy was in his arms where he belonged. It should have been Kurt's hand in his in Central Park, playing tag, rolling around on the lawn until grass stains blemished their clothes and feeding each other ice cream in the summer sun until their bellies burst. It should have been Kurt, not Quinn and as Noah brought his attention back to the song, he felt Kurt remove his hand from his chest. Swooping in before it fell, the man quickly took a hold of it, brought it up to his lips and graced it with a kiss, his lips stroking over every single pale knuckle on Kurt's hand. The boy's voice quivered but recovered to end the song, a charmed smile gracing his face.

_Just hang around and you'll see there's nowhere I'd rather be_  
_If you love me, trust in me the way that I trust in you_  
_Sometimes I run, sometimes I hide, sometimes I'm scared of you but all I really want is to hold you tight_  
_Treat you right, be with you day and night, baby all I need is time_

"Alright, if time is what you want Kurt, I'll give you it. I wish I didn't have to but I know you can't rush these things. Take as long as you want and if you ever want to sing to me again, don't hesitate, because I could listen to your fine pipes any day. Thanks," smiled Noah, wiping away the remaining tears from his eyes before bringing Kurt in for a thankful kiss, tongues swash buckling in their mouths as the man lowered the boy gently down onto the bed. "I love you Kurt. God damn, I love you so much, and if I somehow fuck up again in the future, promise me you won't leave me for it... please."

"Well I don't know. Depends on the 'fuck up' doesn't it."

"Kurt, I'm trying to be serious here."  
  
"Super serious?"

"Kurt, please."

"Noah, since first meeting you at the Padova, we've come all this way. It hasn't been easy what with my morals conflicting with the matter of your engagement and you being who you are and all, but I want to be with you in spite of all that, and together we'll face it all head on," replied Kurt, looking up at the once tearful face above him. How could he bring himself to reject this poor rugged soul who looked as if he'd allowed love to eat him alive like some chew toy? He couldn't, Noah would die without him, and so he let their lips meet for a passionate kiss that said it all; _I'm not going anywhere_.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

With the clink like ringing of the elevator bell and opening of the doors, Noah led Kurt with a hand in his into the small circular foyer. They'd spent half an hour snuggling on Kurt's bed whilst waiting for the boy's Mangia pizza to arrive, but when it had and before Kurt and his starving stomach could ravenously eat it whole with as little grace as a bloodthirsty wolf, Noah had suggested bringing it along to his place instead. There they had caught a cab in the night and arrived at the penthouse on the Upper East Side, of course now with only the crusts and crumbs of the pizza littering the inside of the box. Noah had laughed heartily at Kurt's appetite, finding it utterly adorable and now that they were finally here, the man unlocking his front door and opening it wide open for the boy to enter, he was looking forward for another kind of appetite to be fulfilled.

"Noah, tell me why we're here again," inquired Kurt as he anxiously stepped over the threshold and allowed his lover to close the door behind him. Switching on the lights, Noah made sure the whole place was well lit before coming to stand before Kurt once again, eying his nervous stance with a frown. Of course, now he remembered. The last time Kurt had been here, he'd been allegedly chased out by Anita. No wonder he was glancing around to see whether she would pop out like last time to go at him for round two. "I'm sorry, but I just don't thing coming here was a good idea."

"Don't worry babe, no one's here except you and I," soothed Noah as he lead Kurt on over into the living room and onto one of the comfortable couches by the fireplace. The man could still sense a noticeable amount of tension in Kurt's shoulders but and it only served to make him angrier at Anita. Sometimes he wished he'd never left Kurt alone that day. The boy had paid for Noah's poor hosting skills. "Anita went home hours ago, Jake and Sarah are at my mom's and Quinn's with Santana at Rachel's tonight. Something about convincing her not to do a nude scene for some amateur student musical film."  
**  
** "Well, if you're going to go nude for anything, you have to make sure you're in the company of professionals who aren't going to screw you over **.** It's what my friend Artie said. He claimed student filmmakers can sometimes be the worst, and he's one himself, except not skeezy. I would know, he's filmed me before," explained Kurt as Noah looked at him with a mixture of jealous yet hungry wide eyes, causing Kurt to laugh. "Oh no, he didn't film me in the nude. It was just for those music videos that I told you about. I'll have to thank him some time though. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have become a model."

"You've never shown me these music videos, babe. I want to see them."

"Maybe someday, but for now you have in your arms the boy who was actually in them."

"I guess that can hold me over, but I bet those videos are hotter than Quinn's yoga videos."

"Speaking of Quinn, doesn't she live here? Won't she come back here once she's finished with the girls?"

"Nah, she's not coming home tonight. She's staying at Santana's place," answered Noah as he lifted a hand to stroke Kurt's soft hair, from the tip of his roots all the way down to end of each strand. "Kurt, Quinn does live here and I'm not going to lie, we do share a bed, but that's pretty much it. Our schedules conflict with each other's and so I don't see her all that often except for in the morning and in the evening. Today was just an open slot and it was her idea to go out so we did, but like I said my mind was always on you. How that afternoon ended just made me grow some balls to go and talk to you."

"And now that you have come and talked to me, what happens now?" asked Kurt anxiously, feeling the strokes of Noah's palm on his hair cease as their eyes met. The man had preciously assured Kurt back in Lima that he'd leave Quinn for him. If he didn't stay truthful to his word, Kurt would feel as if he'd been led on under false pretenses and there had been enough ruptures in their affair to risk creating any more. In fact, now that Noah was in love, he had all the more reason to go through with it. "Noah? Are you going to talk to your mom about me? Are you still going to leave Quinn... for me?"

"Yeah Kurt, tomorrow I am going to talk to my mom and see what she says... but I want you there with me when I do. She'll think it's a joke at first but if you're there with me for when I come out to her, it'll prove that what we've got going on is real and serious. It'll make it just that much easier," explained Noah as Kurt nodded in agreement, his heart beating a little faster now that he realized they were actually going to do this. No one wanted this engagement, much less to a marriage of convenience. Only love belonged in marriage, not convenience. "We're going to do this thing Kurt, together, you and I."

"That's all I ever wanted to hear," breathed Kurt, smiling gratefully before leaning in and planting a supple kiss on Noah's lips. There they lingered until eventually pulling away and resting their foreheads against one another's. Their breaths hit each other's faces and as they looked into each other's eyes, neither of them could count their luck for having met the other. "So, now that we know what we're doing, perhaps you can tell me why you've brought me here. I was happy with us being in my bed eating pizza you know, and it's not as if you don't like my apartment, right?"

"No not at all, it's just I didn't think you would have had all the... toys we'll be needing. If you know what I mean," flirted Noah as Kurt blinked at the sudden change in tone. It was a deep tone, a hot tone, one that he knew all too well and that always, more often than not, had Kurt screaming God's name over and over again. Yes, all the indications pointed to sex but the mention of toys, the hungry glint in Noah's eyes and just a feeling had Kurt slithering his hand from its perch on Noah's shoulder down to his crotch, intent on a delicious grope, until a tanned hand stopped him. "Wait, Kurt."

"What's wrong?"

"I... I want to do things a little differently tonight."

"How differently?"

"I want us to go... all the way."

"You mean... oh," mouthed Kurt as the flirtatious air that he had had about him a few seconds ago, morphed into one of nervousness. Up until now, their sex life had consisted of kisses, touches, hand jobs, blowjobs and frotting. They'd delved in nothing else but those acts, acts that had brought them a lot of satisfaction. Some might believe that Kurt's virginity was still intact in spite of them all but now with the prospect of losing it to someone he felt deeply for; it was something to think about. Yet what was he going to say? Noah wanted to do this, but did he? "Umm... Noah, I don't know."

"Please Kurt, just here me out first," began Noah as he took hold of Kurt's hands in his and looked straight into his eyes. "Remember when I once said I got bored with sex, that I'd kind of worn it out? Well now, because of you Kurt, it's never been hotter. You blew me first, you beat me off first and then you introduced me to kick ass frottage. It's been amazing. You literally blew the life back into my sex life. So, I've thought about this a lot. I mean it's a big step but I think we're ready, because I love you and I want to do this... I want to fuck you."

"Alright Noah, I'll do it, for you. I've been meaning to thank you for extending my vacation with that Hampton stay in some form or another so this fits in," smiled Kurt as Noah's face warmed considerably, excitement for the night's upcoming activities sending a rush of adrenaline to surge through his muscles and with his arms winding their way firmly around Kurt, the man hoisted the boy up into a bridal hold. "You know I'm glad you brought me here where you have the 'toys' Noah, because back at my place I have nothing, and I know that what you plan to do can be a lot less fun without them."

"That's right, I took up after your example babe and I researched my stuff. I've got everything we need for our all night championship fuck fest," grinned Noah. "And you needn't worry. When we started fooling around, I was kind of nervous, yeah, wondered if I'd be any good at it or if I'd make it good enough for you but now, I'm totally cool with it. Everything we've done has lead us to this moment and besides, it's you Kurt. You're sexy as fuck. If I didn't want to take you bed then there would be something seriously wrong with Tyrannosaurus Sex over here."

Flipping his head back and letting an eruption of melodious laughter to float from within him, Kurt smiled as Noah began walking out of the living room and down the corridor. Doors to various rooms flashed by and as they arrived at the final door, the light above in the frame casting a spotlight like illumination to grace its polished wooden front, Noah opened it. With Kurt still giggling in his arms, the man maneuvered his way through the doorway and kicked it shut with his heel as he led them over towards the bed. Noah's bedroom, compared to his one in the Hamptons was a lot more modern, much more in keeping with the city of New York. The color schemes decorated the room with generous splashes of blue, orange and black and had within it pieces of furniture upholstered in metal, leather, oak and soft white linen.

Kurt was then soon after placed delicately on the bed, his eyes plastered to Noah's. Here they were, in the room where it was all going to happen, the official consummation of their affair. The softly billowing curtains from the windows as well as the balcony doors that looked as if they led onto another mesmerizing view of the city's landscape all acted as backdrop to what he and Noah were sharing. The ultimate moment. He knew this was the infamous bed that had been branded the 'bed of a thousand babes' in the tabloids, the ultimate crème de la crème of the love nest if you were ever taken home by the Puckerman heir. In fact, this was the bed Noah was sharing with Quinn. They would tuck each other in separately with not so much as a kiss goodnight. This bed was big but cold, ever so cold. Oh how it longed for better days, for affection.

Beside the bed were two end tables filled with draws. Out of one draw to his left, a condom and bottle of lube were removed by Noah, and as Kurt made to peer more closely at the tall bottle, he bit his lip in both lust and nervousness. This lube was going to aid his lover enter him with ease, it was the main 'toy' that Noah had mentioned earlier but yet Kurt couldn't prevent himself from smiling as he noticed the 'limited edition' flavor: Strawberry and Champagne. Now, Kurt didn't know much about lubes, except that the flavored ones were preferable for oral sex whilst for anal, water based lubes were recommended. As a result, he began to doubt the amount of research Noah had done, but as he took a closer look at the bottle, he discovered that it was indeed water based. Kurt breathed in a smile of relief. Sex would smell sweet and bubbly tonight.

"I want you to feel good, Kurt," oozed Noah as he went to stand at the foot of the bed, watching as Kurt seemed to shrink in the linen, rendering himself so small in the man's large king sized bed. It was as if he was being engulfed in fluffy pillows and the thick comforter were smothering him alive, but of course he was just imagining. Noah was so excited that he was beginning to hallucinate things. Although, the one thing he knew for sure was that Kurt was eying him expectantly, waiting for it all to commence and with the unbuckling of Noah's belt and the descent of his jeans, it began. "Do you trust me, Kurt?"

"Yes I do, and do you want to know why I do?" asked Kurt as Noah peeled off his shirt before casting it aside with the remains of his gear, nodding. Everything had come off now, everything, except for the tight boxers cupping that erect bulge. "Back in the Hamptons, before I went down on you in the shower, you crouched down to my level, made me look in your eyes and say without hesitating that I wanted you. The sheer amount of care you showed me assured me that I was safe with you, that you wouldn't push me, that I could trust you, but now it's my turn. Noah, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah Kurt, I'm sure. I want to do this with you. I want to rock your world," replied Noah determinedly as he crawled up onto the bed and grabbed hold of Kurt's jean leggings. As the boy shimmied out of them, Noah pulled them off with a clean pull leaving behind perfect pale legs bear for him to stroke and to stare at. Off the socks went. Off the polo top went, until finally there both of them were, naked save for their underwear, their lips attached as Noah spread Kurt's thighs apart with his, their bodies crying out for each other. It was hot. Nerve-wracking but so hot as Kurt's puckered mouth softly cried out.

"Oh... oh Noah..." breathed Kurt harshly as he lifted his mouth to Noah's shoulder and bit down on it softly, the slight pain encouraging Noah to continue. It had been his idea and it had been all him. The man had since plunged his hand into Kurt's briefs and as turgid flesh had met thick palm, Kurt had let out a light high pitched gasp that had had his mouth forming an 'o' shape. His breathing had quickened, his lust had risen, and as his arousal fell prey to the hand job from a hand that gave it no mercy, Noah smirked before layering Kurt's neck with wet kisses. "Mmm yeah, Noah. Oooh, oh, I want you baby."

"I want you more, Kurt. God, I've wanted to fuck you for so long," replied Noah as he pulled his hand out from Kurt's briefs, taking both his hands and tearing them apart. The ripping sound and the cool breeze from the incoming air on his previously clothed skin caused Kurt to gasp aloud, looking down just to see his underwear fall apart in Noah's strong hands, revealing Kurt's pulsing erection. Noah was taking control tonight. Kurt's body was going to be along for the midnight ride. His ride. However, as he made to grab the Durex condom lying next to the lube, Kurt stopped him with a hand on his.

"No Noah, I don't care how thin that condom is, I want to feel you... unless you don't want to bareback."

"I want to, Kurt."

"You do? I mean, I know they say it's safer to use them, but-"

"It's alright baby, I'm healthy. I have myself checked every month. I'm good to go."

Smiling, Kurt looked lovingly back up at Noah who leaned down to plant an endearing kiss on his lips before shifting his still outstretched hand a little over to the left, from the condom to the lube. There he picked it up, his fervid tongue still in Kurt's mouth, and brought it over to them, popping open the lid and pulling away just in time for Kurt to watch him squeeze a drop onto his finger. The boy looked up at Noah and then back down at the finger. What would it taste like? Fruit and alcohol or artificial rubbish. Turned out, it was a mixture of the two but with no unpleasant after taste. It lingered on his tongue as he sucked on Noah's finger like a baby hungry with its toothless mouth poised for the breast. Pulling away with a slippery pop, Kurt smiled back up at Noah, the man's eyes so aroused that his irises resembled giant black balls of frothing lust.

Wasting no more time, Noah set aside the bottle of lube and pulled off his boxers in a lightening quick movement. However, he ceased moving when he heard a gasp. Looking over at Kurt, he noticed the boy gulping as he looked directly at his manhood, fully erect, fully present. Although Kurt had seen his length many a time before, this time, it was going to more than rub up and down against him. This time they were going to get a whole lot more personal. But in that moment, Noah feared that Kurt's tolerance for his size would come to an end here. He didn't want that happen. He wanted to be inside Kurt and make love to him on a whole other level. He would be crushed if the boy couldn't handle it. So he took it slow, bathing his hard shaft with lube, his eyes always on Kurt's anxious face, though as he neared the boy's entrance, he was stopped again.

"No Noah stop, you can't!" cried out Kurt as he whipped out a hand for it to land on Noah's bare chest. The man wasn't being serious was he? Planning to penetrate him with a dick that big without prior preparation? His ass would rip apart, and it wouldn't matter if they ended up emptying the entire five hundred milliliter lube bottle beside them, nothing would ease the no doubt excruciating pain. It seemed Noah really didn't know what he was doing. Research had been done, yes, but not nearly enough. However, as Kurt eyed the man above, realization struck him. "Oh no Noah, I didn't mean that. It's just-"

"I'm too big... fuck!" shouted Noah, his face scrunching up in extreme disappointment as he slumped back and eyed the quilt beneath with a broken expression. He was heartbroken and Kurt could very well see it in his body language, but above all in his face. Noah really had been looking forward to this. The man had really wanted to do this with him and now with it not being possible what with his well endowed lifeline exercise card, it just seem to ruin the evening. His whole evening to Noah had been wrecked but as he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up at Kurt's warmly smiling face.

"Noah listen to me, you've got a big cock yes, but it's beautiful. I love your cock. You just missed a crucial step, that's all. You can still fuck me," soothed Kurt as Noah's head whipped up from its hunched position to eye Kurt with surprise. With a supportive smile that indicated to Noah that everything was all right, Kurt giggled as he noticed wave after wave of relief flood the man's eyes as a thankful grin broke out onto his face. All was not lost, and as Noah's body straightened up, his knees shuffling closer to Kurt, he laughed in gladness. "That's right baby, we can still have sex. You just have to prepare me."

"Prepare you?"

"Yes, you're supposed to stretch me before hand otherwise I'll split in two. I thought you said you'd researched this."

"I did. I watched gay porn."

"Stick to the guides Noah, never the porn. It's all show, but now I know you've never done anal before."

"No, I haven't. I've suggested it a couple times in the past, you know, just to experiment a little, but chicks just don't seem to be all that into it, especially when you have a dick as big as mine," explained Noah as Kurt nodded, his hand still lying on the man's shoulder as a support. For this was all very interesting. "They find it a little weird and it takes a lot of foreplay for them to even consider doing it, but even when they do, they start to question whether I'll respect them more or less after doing it or not, so in the end I have to fuck them the regular way just to make them shut up."

"How charming," replied Kurt sarcastically as Noah rolled his eyes before giving into a small grin. Taking the lube in his hands, Kurt proceeded to squeeze a small amount of it into his palm before he covered every single one of his fingers in the clear liquid. Practical illustration was often the best method when it came to sex. "Okay, I'll show you what you have to do. The first thing you need to know about anal sex Noah, is that it's all about the lube. It's like the first rule, the more the better. To prepare me, you have you lather your fingers up in the stuff and finger me, one finger at a time, like so."

Bringing one fully slicked finger to his entrance, Kurt breached his hole and let out a soft puff of air from his lips, a light moan the deeper his finger went. He'd never done this before. He was just as new to this as Noah was, but yet he knew much more about it, giving him the upper hand. Noah, on the other hand sat transfixed as Kurt delved in deeper. His rein of power in the bedroom had been overthrown yet again by Kurt, all because he hadn't used good enough sources for his research. He was supposed to be the sex shark around here yet there he sat, learning, eyes fully focused on the beautiful sight of Kurt fingering himself in preparation for his manhood. The big Puckerman manhood that had not softened or drooped for a minute in spite of all the talking. How could it, when the fun had just begun?

Now however, Noah's body was itching to take part in Kurt's little show, his ever so erotic lesson. He didn't just want to sit watching it, he wanted to take part. Such a situation reminded him of the time he'd lost his virginity at the hands of two lesbians back in junior high, how he'd tried to join them after his 'role was over' only to end up being pushed off the bed and onto the floor. Of course, he'd had better experiences since then, but he hoped that such a time wouldn't arise again, for he was a man now, he was better, he was stronger and he was in love. With that thought of encouragement racing through his head, Noah grabbed hold of the lube and lathered his fingers once more. He gently removed Kurt's hand and entered a finger himself, the warmth engulfing his skin immediately. So warm, so hot. Christ, it made him hard.

"That's it Noah, oh, your fingers are bigger than mine," breathed Kurt light heartedly as he smiled back up at Noah. The boy was not so much breathing properly or well to be exact as he was panting. Tiny beads of sweat had already formed on his forehead, upper lip and chest and even though the breeze from the open doors and windows was ever constant, the heat felt as though it were rising unforgivingly on them both. However, this did not deter Noah from entering another finger, causing Kurt to gasp aloud, his arms struggling to support him, but as Noah pushed in deeper, the boy screamed.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Nothing Noah. You just hit my G-Spot."

"Oh thank God, I thought I'd hurt you or something."

"No, I'm alright; I'm fine... want to fuck me now? I'm ready."

"Fuck yeah, let's do this," grinned Noah enthusiastically as Kurt returned the smile just as eagerly. However as he turned around to get on all fours, his line of sight now facing the polished headboard with his head down and ass up in the air, his nerves creeped back on him. He'd heard that starting in doggy style was recommended, especially for beginners, though not being able to see what Noah was doing was like waiting for a horror ride jump out or the blow from the executioner's axe. "But remember Kurt, your word is law, so if you say to go slow, I'll go slow, and if you want to stop... we'll stop."

"Alright, just... just remember to go easy Noah, please," requested Kurt softly as Noah nodded, leaning down over him and planting a soothing kiss to the back of the boy's neck before whispering, "I will do". There the man straightened up, stroking Kurt's back as he did, his fingers like a roller coaster to the faint outline of the boy's spine that ended with his lovely ass. He further pushed open Kurt's thighs with his knee, widening them, granting him better access as he positioned himself for the intrusion. However, as he entered, his glans had barely gone in a few inches when a gasp of pain ran out. "Ow... o-ow..."

"Kurt, are you okay?" asked Noah worriedly, eying Kurt's head which seemed to have sunk itself into a pillow. He was begging up high that he wouldn't have to retract, that he would be able to go through with this but nothing could prevent his heart dropping rapidly from the less than enthusiastic response he was receiving. Maybe they hadn't prepared enough; maybe they weren't using enough lube. He didn't know what to do. He had no idea how Kurt felt but taking in the boy's unnaturally rigid posture, quivering as if from cold sweats, it was far from good. "Baby please, answer me."

"It hurts, Noah," whimpered Kurt, lifting his face from out of the pillow on thin arms that shook from uncomfortable pain. In all honesty, it was taking up all his energy not only to collapse but also not to shout, scream or cry out from the searing burning he was experiencing, but he didn't want to fall apart. He didn't want to unsettle the already self-conscious man behind him and dissuade him from what he really wanted. Any extreme exclamation of objection, especially in a setting Noah had once claimed was his 'natural calling', would only land more brutal blows to his ego, but now he'd let one slip, and the damage had already been done.

"Right that's it, I'm pulling out," replied Noah determinedly as he made to remove himself from Kurt, his eyes downcast and upset. He just couldn't do this. The sight he was witnessing would discourage any man. Kurt's hands, so small and little, had almost blended themselves into the bed from the ghost pale shade of white they'd become. All that clenching and pulling at the creasing sheets below had left them lifeless looking, and no matter how many times the boy attempted to conceal his escaping squeals of pain into the pillow, Noah could still hear them faintly much to his great dismay.

"No, don't you dare! Stay where you are!" cried out Kurt as Noah froze, frowning as to why the boy would continue reveling in aching pain. He knew the boy's word was law but he really didn't like hurting Kurt. He really didn't. Pulling himself up to a kneeling position as if a dog balancing on its hind legs, Kurt leaned his back against Noah's chest, his face coming to look at his. There the man wrapped his arms supportingly around Kurt's pale torso and continued looking at his boy with nothing short of worry feasting in his eyes. "It's going to hurt at first, Noah. I'm not going to feel pleasure right away, it takes time."

Nodding before bringing Kurt in for an amorous kiss that let them both know that the man had understood despite his attempt at a protest, Noah shuffled slightly as he continued to pin Kurt's body to his, both of them upright. He could still feel the vibrations of the boy's small sized spasms channeling up his strong arms but he let them go as Kurt went to rest the back of his head on his broad shoulder, attempting to breathe as evenly as he could. Noah knew the boy was right. He had to be patient. It's just that he'd always wished that this would be amazing, that no work had to be put in, that it would come naturally. Maybe his expectations had been too high, of course he was a little disappointed but besides, this was their first time. The first time was always weird. Yet for Kurt, this was his first time ever. The pressure was on... hard

"Alright babe, I'm going in," warned Noah as his arms tightened their hold around Kurt, his determination high once again. Pushing himself further and further into the boy, Noah strived to maintain a slow yet constant pace. Any sudden jolts would hurt Kurt and the boy's pants were already laboring significantly. The night's outcome was now on him but as his hose became fully engulfed, it was his turn to gasp aloud. Kurt was hot, comfortable and ever so tight. Tighter than any pussy. His shaft was fully sheathed in friction and it felt fucking amazing. "Fuck, babe, you're... God, you're so tight."

"And you're so big," complimented Kurt as Noah smirked back at him. As the man's pleasure had his eyes rolling white in their sockets, Kurt's pain had lessened. He'd gradually grown accustomed to Noah's manhood within him, and it no longer felt as though he were experiencing some kind of sadistic torture ritual. Noah had since noticed the change from tense statue to tranquil puppy and had caressed his sides and cradled his belly, all while uttering calming words of reassurance into his ear to breathe in deeply, in and out, calling him his baby, his love. But now this baby wanted more and as Noah set a supple kiss on Kurt's neck, the boy set the order. "Noah... move."

Kurt felt Noah still behind him and as the man came to look at him once more, the boy returned his gaze. Kurt knew that Noah wanted to move ever so desperately. He had to otherwise the pain on his manhood from lack of stimulation would cause him to go insane. Either that or it wouldn't take long until the combination of both Kurt's warmth and tightness would obliterate his stamina and encourage him to finish early. For Kurt, all pain had completely gone, leaving behind an after feeling of uncomfortable numbness. It wasn't particularly pleasant and the only thing he could think of to alleviate both of their problems was if Noah began to thrust, and thrust he did as the man pulled himself out before going back in, the sensations rocking his mind to the brim. Yet for Kurt it wasn't enough. He wanted more, damn it!

"Faster Noah, go faster," instructed Kurt as he peeled himself from Noah's chest to land on all fours again on the bed. He was grateful that the man was being careful with him, keeping a steady pace as though one move out of line would tear something inside, but now Kurt had had enough. He wanted to be fucked harder. It was the only way he was going to get any pleasure out from any of this and he was not going to leave this bed with pain being the only thing he remembered. No, he was not going to allow pain to scar the loss of his virginity to Noah. Thankfully, Noah had done what he'd been told because within the next second, the man had increased the pace of his thrusts, each one bigger, better, faster and stronger than the last. Only then did Kurt, unknown to Noah, begin to deviously smile in response. Now this was more like it.

"Fuck babe, you feel so fucking good," praised Noah as he dominated Kurt more and more with every thrust he laid on him. Despite the order to go faster, the man still kept on eye on Kurt just in case the boy screamed out in pain or something else equally mortifying, but at this rate, it was becoming that much harder to restrain his head from facing the ceiling and for his eyes not to roll back to blinding levels as he moved himself in and out repeatedly with greater speed, his brain and mind similarly turning to mush. "Kurt, turn over. Get on your back; I want to see your face... I want to see you."

Cooing in agreement, Kurt allowed the man to quickly pull out of him, flip him over with the flick of his legs and make to enter him once more. However, on the first powerful thrust back into that hot heat, Kurt shrieked as his arms shot out and grasped onto Noah's arms, his fingers digging into the man's biceps for support. He'd hit it. Noah had hit it again, Kurt's prostate, except the reaction now was a lot more pronounced that it had been earlier on. The boy's eyes were wide like tennis balls, his mouth agape as if he'd just experienced his first orgasm and for Kurt himself as he reveled in the feeling of Noah's manhood caressing his special spot, his bundle of nerves that melted him into the bed, he smiled. A dick was so much better than a finger, or to to be more precise, Noah's dick. Oh how the man had hit it on the spot. So good.

"Make me yours, Noah... oh baby," pleaded Kurt as Noah slowly began to resume his thrusting, gradually increasing the speed and resuming the rate he had been at before, except now, he'd angled himself whilst raising Kurt's leg ever so slightly so that each thrust hit Kurt's walnut shaped G-Spot over and over again, as if his hose were digging for treasure and striking gold each time. Accompanying his thrusts were his kisses as he nipped down to peck a trail of them on Kurt's neck and chest, licking and sucking on the boy's pointed nipples as Kurt held onto him tightly. "Fuck me, Noah! Just fuck me! Ah!"

"Yeah, take it babe. Take it all for me," demanded Noah as he fucked and he fucked and he fucked. Kurt really was being very vocal now, and Noah was overwhelmingly glad the boy was gaining pleasure instead of pain, but if Kurt continued moaning, biting his lip enough to draw blood and begging him to fuck him repeatedly like a hot cock slut, a sweaty, writhing slut whose body was finally in his command, Noah was going to have to use all the stamina within him to be able to withstand it all, but it wasn't as if he was being quiet himself. He was crying out. "Fuck yeah, Kurt. My cock making you squeal."

"Harder Noah! Do me! Pound me into your mattress like there's no tomorrow!" cried out Kurt as he reached down for his own shaft, pumping it with drops of pre-come already leaking like a hot spring. His body was being endlessly rocked by the power of Noah's thrusts, those strong thigh muscles, those abs, those everything. He couldn't get enough of feasting his eyes on the bronzed Adonis above him for he was reducing Noah to a mess. Whispering his name in awe, eliciting small whimpers of desperation, and barely audible pants of orgasmic like pleasure. Yes, Noah the hunk was falling apart over him.

"Fuck you're hot when you talk dirty, babe. You're killing me here," panted Noah as he shifted all this strength into his muscled packed lower body before slamming into Kurt. Through all the groaning and breathy panting that came with each thrust, sweat had now drenched their bodies. Beads of it were trickling down in the wake of the condensation on the windows and even though their bodies were becoming sticky from the prolonged activity of sex, they didn't care. All that was riding through their minds was what they were getting from each other, their bodies working in perfect sync.

"Noah, I'm not going to... last," warned Kurt as he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching. He knew he wasn't going to last long what with his prostate receiving the royal treatment. It meant that he hadn't had to masturbate all that long but that only allowed him to focus most of his attention back to the handsome man who was coating him in sex from above. Oh, how Noah was handsome. Tall, dark and handsome. The kind of man most girls and he dreamed of having in their beds, to make hard love to them, to bring them to the edge, to send them over it until with a final thrust... "I'm going to... Noah I'm going to!"

"Come for me, babe. Give it up for me," encouraged Noah as he leaned down to lick up the sweat around the shell of Kurt's ear, whispering in that same ear that undid Kurt right then and there. With the man's final words of encouragement, the hot breathing on his pale flushed flesh and three more quick strokes later, Kurt orgasmed his heart out as silver shaded seed rained down onto his glistening stomach, the sight awing Noah completely as the boy's silent moans and pants from a parted mouth once again in the delectable shape of an 'o', stunned him into silence, a sight that proved to be his undoing.

"Oh, my... oh God! Fuck, Kurt!" warned Noah as Kurt peeled open his eyes from his overpowering orgasm to see his big lover tensing and tensing. It was time. The boy's ass had increased the pressure on Noah's manhood and had in doing so sent the man spiraling down into his own mind-blowing euphoria. But unlike Kurt's silent cries, Noah roared in pleasure as rope after rope of cream like seed shot out into the boy. There he howled as his hips pumped in soft intervals, his breathing erratic and pant like, his eyes tight shut as the powerful sensation drowned him. "Oh, my… oh God! Fuck, Kurt! Baby! I am the... MAN!"

"Shh, easy Noah. Easy, that's it. There we go, shh," soothed Kurt as he attempted to calm the still heavily spasming man. What an ending. Neither of them had expected to experience anything of the sort, especially on their first try. Kurt was surprised with himself, the way he'd almost been possessed by the pleasure and as for Noah, as he eventually opened his eyes, his mouth still agape from his heavy panting, he could have sworn that during those last few minutes of orgasm, he'd died and gone to heaven, for what he'd just experienced was abso-fucking-lutely the best sex he'd ever had.

"Oh my God, Kurt... just... oh my God," muttered Noah breathlessly as he looked down at Kurt with an expression of complete serenity, as if he'd just experienced an epiphany. There were no words to describe it all, how he was feeling, how the whole thing had felt. Mere complimentary words would be useless, insults even to it all. Hell, he was still orgasming. Several minutes after coming and he was still orgasming. Was this the power of love? Had love made sex's pleasure more potent? _Fuck yeah_ , he thought as he leaned down to kiss Kurt ardently on his swollen, puffed up lips. "Kurt, I love you."

"I love you too."

"What? ... what did you say?"

"I love you Noah."

"Oh my... I thought you said you needed time."

"Time needn't always mean days, weeks or months on end, Noah. Sometimes when a connection as strong as ours links people together, hours, minutes or even seconds are all it takes, giggled Kurt as he brought his hand up to caress Noah's cheek, his eyes looking lovingly back at the man who couldn't believe his ears. Was Kurt trying to kill him with happiness? A soft and sweet death that had his heart beating faster and faster until it could beat no more? It felt like it because his whole being swelled in joy, his soul soaring into the air. Kurt was in love with him. Love.

"Oh my God... Kurt, you've made me so happy, I fucking love you," praised Noah as without hesitation, the man pulled his boy into the deepest kiss he could take, only the new found love they had fueling it further. Noah's eyes had since watered, tears of joy spilling over the damns, and for Kurt, it had turned out that a connection, an act of this magnitude had been the final clinch in it all. His love for Noah had been revived. They had each other now and as they sealed Kurt's confession with a kiss, both of them fell into each other's embrace. Words weren't needed, their touch was only wanted. Here they joined on the bed that had fused their hearts together, their minds sinking into love's deepest ocean. Neither of them could have felt more at bliss, until one of them saw her standing in the doorway, her face broken as tears rolled down her fair cheeks, tears of another kind.

Quinn


	19. Homewrecker

_I see the way that you look at him, what makes you think that he's yours to win  
_ _You're showing off just trying to catch his eye, run along get your own guy  
_ _The way your hand lingers on his arm, he makes a joke, you laugh a bit too hard  
_ _I know the tricks, it makes me sick inside, run along get your own guy..._

"What is this?!" Cried out Quinn indignantly from the bedroom doorway, the palms of her hands facing outwards from her sides as her mouth gaped open like a fish run aground gasping desperately for the water before suffocation grabbed its life with the stopping of its heart. For Quinn, it was very much the same. She had walked along the corridor to her fiancé's bedroom without much thought before she'd opened the door and run aground on a sight that had cut her breathing to next nothing and rendered her heart motionless, powerless to restart. She was dying from the sight. "What the hell am I seeing?!"

"Oh my God..." muttered Noah in panic as with the sound of both Quinn and Kurt's gasps resounding off the walls, he looked around to see his tearful fiancée, eying him in a compromising post coital position with a boy who's skin looked as if it had been bleached an increasingly lighter tone of petrified white. Quickly sliding himself out of Kurt as the boy winced ever so slightly, Noah pulled himself off the person he'd just been caught cheating with and tried to calm his now rattling heart. He was so screwed. Both he and Kurt were so screwed. "Quinn, honey, I can explain, I-"

"'Honey'?! No, you no longer have the right to call me that, Puckerman! No right at all! I stopped being your 'honey' the moment you decided to taint our engagement by fucking someone else, and in here, on what was going to be our marriage bed!" Screamed Quinn as she surged forward, Noah jumping off the bed as Kurt brought the low ridden quilt up to his neck, concealing his shameful nudity. "And don't even think of spewing out tedious and degrading excuses, Puckerman! There is no plausible explanation that could in any way justify you cheating on me! Why have you done this?!"

"I... I-I didn't mean for you to find out this way, Q."

"Liar! You didn't mean for me to find out at all!"

"Quinn, believe me I wasn't out to hurt you."

"Yet I catch you desecrating what we have with that thing!"

"Q! He's not a 'thing', his name is Kurt," seethed Noah, pointing to the cowering boy practically fully hidden behind the white quilt. As Quinn's temper had risen exponentially, and as Noah had scrambled to collect and pull on each article of clothing he'd haphazardly discarded before the fateful act, Kurt had tried with all his might to render himself as small as possible, make himself invisible, to pray for magic to wave it's wand an teleport to his own bed in his apartment where the fear that his hair would get ripped out was not as great. "Just calm down alright, Q. Just-"

"Shut up! One more word out of you and I'll slice your cheating cock off with your undone zipper!" Threatened Quinn as she turned to Kurt, her brown eyes blazing. "You... Kurt 'Model of the Year', 'Most Beautiful Face of 2012' Hummel must be pretty pleased with yourself, huh? Think you've snagged and converted yourself a rich man, don't you? And I bet the fact that he belongs to someone else made it all the made satisfying, didn't it? A real accomplishment. Wrong. You're just like any other easy thigh opening lay; a headboard banging fuck, a degenerate  _thing_  as useful as a run of the mill blow up sex doll!"

"Don't you fucking call him that, Fabray! Don't you ever fucking call him that again!" Roared Noah as he pulled Quinn away from the cowering boy who looked as though he was going to bolt at any second, to face him head on. The man could see each insult Quinn had thrown at Kurt had effectively acted as a pinprick to the boy's sensitive feelings. The winces, the near hint of welling eyes, everything, and such reaction was like food to Quinn's rant. It was horrible to watch, but enough was enough and Noah was not going to stand for it. "Just leave Kurt alone, Q. This is between you and me."

"This whole engagement was between you and me before he came along! For all I know, he might not be the only one! How many other people are you fucking, Noah?! How many other people are you having affairs with?! And I say 'people' because I don't what the hell your sexuality is anymore!" Shouted Quinn as she roughly shoved the man away from her, her senses nearly overcome with the stench of fornication. This bedroom was like a gas chamber to her now. "Are you gay, Noah? Just come right out and say it to your fiancée, to your future wife. Are you gay?!"

"No."

"Then what the hell are you?!"

"I'm... I'm bi, Q. I like guys and girls."

"Don't kid yourself, Puckerman. You're on a layover to gay town."

"Look Quinn, how about we talk about this later," proposed Noah calmly albeit a little shaken as Quinn continued eying him in disgust. She didn't think bisexuality even existed. She was firm believer of labels: gay and straight, pick a side and stay there. However, it was which side Noah had chosen to stay on that worried her, all because of the thing still in their bed. Whipping around she saw that whilst her back had been turned, Kurt had slipped out from under the quilt, had hastily begun collecting and pulling on his own clothes but before he could reach for his polo top, she grabbed him by the wrist.

"Listen, you little home wrecking whore, I don't want to ever see your face here again, clear?" Warned Quinn. "First you flirt with my fiancé in front of everyone, then you humiliate me by dancing with him at the ball, and now I walk in on you fucking him in our bed. If I catch you near him once more I'll make sure you wish you'd never stepped foot in this city of so called 'friendly people'. Your life will be ruined, it'll be finished, you'll never model again, and as for NYADA, I can make sure that dream is a dead as your affair with Noah is now. Now get the fuck out of our apartment!"

"Kurt, baby wait!" Cried out Noah as with a final glare from the angry blonde, a stare cold enough to sprout icicles inside his stomach, Kurt wrenched his wrist from out of Quinn's choke like hold and her digger like nails to flee the room without a second glance, the door slamming shut as the boy's running steps beyond the entrance disappeared into silence. Fuming, Noah turned from the door to his fiancée. "What the fuck, Q?! You have no right saying that to him! You don't set down the rules around here! This is my apartment, not yours, and I call the fucking shots in my own life, not you!"

"You've never once called the shots in your life, Noah! Not when you were a kid, not in high school, and not now! Know why? Because you can't be trusted!" Argued Quinn. "Don't you understand?! I set an example out of that boy! I don't want you bringing home any more men and women, and if you do, I'll treat them as I did Hummel! The only one you should be taking to bed is me, your future wife. Besides, I don't even know why you're getting all hung up on this? That boy clearly has a thing for you but it's not as if you return his pathetic schoolboy feelings, right? He's just like the others. Nothing."

"He's not nothing Q, he's Kurt! His name is Kurt! He's not a 'headboard banging fuck', his feelings aren't 'pathetic', they're real and that 'thing' he has for me is greater than anything you've ever felt for me!" Retorted Noah as he grabbed hold of Quinn's shoulders and shoved her onto the bed as she landed with a heavy thud. However as the man went to pull on his shirt, she felt the warmth, the warmth that was quickly disappearing but constantly lingering, the warmth of love just made. She'd never felt it before. "I'm not going to say this again Q, just back the fuck off!"

"Like hell I will!" Shouted Quinn. "This is more than a mere dalliance, isn't it? You actually have feelings for that boy... You know, I have never once objected to your flirtatious behavior when in the presence of women, Noah. I have accepted your promiscuous past and sordid lifestyle choices you have had, but of all the models at the Salvatore show, of all the models in New York City, you had to throw yourself on him. I didn't want you cheating on me with anyone, but with him? A boy who sat next to me in that Limo to the Balencia only to ruin my evening later. How could you do this to me?"

"To you? Not everything is about you Q, and when I've been with Kurt, it's definitely not been about you," snapped Noah. "I didn't sleep with Kurt to get back at you or some shit. I wasn't out to hurt you. In fact, whilst you were either at Yale or going out with the girls to wherever as everyone else around me gossiped about me and ignored how misunderstood I was, I found a friend in Kurt. He understands what it's like to be judged. He knows loneliness and ever since then he's been there for me, listening to me, being a true companion so lay off okay."

"You mean to say that boy was gullible enough to listen to all that bullshit?! What a tool!"

"Fuck you!"

"Probably pities you. Probably only hung around because you were made for a good pity fuck."

"Shut up! You don't know shit about him Quinn, or what we had! So just leave him out of it!"

"How can I just 'leave him out of it' Noah, I caught you inside him! I mean, are both of you determined to make me a total laughing stock?! A woman who can't keep track of her own fiancé only to have all her fears proven?! Do you, Noah? What kind of husband are you going to be?! What kind of man are you?!" Yelled Quinn as she stood up suddenly to storm right in front of him, Noah refusing to budge an inch as he eyed her coldly. "And as for... Hummel. Good old friendly lend an ear Hummel. What's so special about him that differentiates him from the rest? Why are you protecting him?!"

"Because I love him alright!" Cried out Noah as he rounded on Quinn once again and bore into her shocked eyes, her whole posture frozen. Eventually tearing his face away, Noah walked on over to the balcony door frame and leaned on it, a tear leaking from his eye as he looked out over the city landscape. "I'm in love with him, Q. Ever since meeting him; he's become the one single thing of my own. I wanted to keep him all to myself, away from you, from family, away from everyone so it was just us, no one else. He was the sole comfort in this engagement; you have robbed me of my only friend and love!"

"Love? What do you know about love, Noah? You don't know shit!" Hissed Quinn as Noah's eyes darkened, flicks of furious red replacing the specs of green in his eyes as he turned around to look the blonde. "You're Noah Puckerman, you don't do love, you don't make love, you fuck. Just fuck and leave. That's the only thing you know how to do that's even remotely close to 'love'. Well, that and breaking hearts. Care to count all the hearts you broke back in high school,  _Puck_? So many aren't there, but you'll have your punishment. The blood from all those broken hearts is on your hands."

"And the tears from all those you manipulated, lied to and betrayed back in school are on yours, Q. This engagement might not have love in it, but at least I've had a taste of it. I know what it feels like and if I could go back in time to stop myself hurting all those girls, I would, but I don't think you would do the same, what with your withered heart and all," seethed Noah as he peeled himself away from the door frame and made his way towards her. "You know, Kurt and I had plans to tell my mom about us. That what we had was real, that we loved each other, and therefore rendering this engagement void."

"As if she'd support such a partnership. Hummel wouldn't be able to bear her grandchildren or heirs to your father's company. He can't give her anything, but I can," explained Quinn. "However, if the press hears of an affair you'll be in for a scandal so big, it'll ruin you all. You will have dishonored your family and brought shame on their name, your boy toy will be branded a home wrecker as his modeling career will flounder and even though I may be damaged goods with my name forever associated to a female cuckold, I'll be pitied as that poor little blonde girl who got unjustly screwed over."

"Like that's much better. Just let Kurt and I do this Q."

"No. Screw Hummel and the love you have for him, I'm not getting cast aside."

"Quinn, you and I don't work. You have to see that. Stop hanging on to this sham of an engagement and let me have this."

"I'm not letting you have anything, Noah. This engagement is real, it is genuine, and we are going to get married or else."

"Or else what, Quinn? You'll sacrifice your reputation by blabbing to the press about me and Kurt? Fine. Kurt and I will deny it, everyone will think of you as nothing but a rumor spreading liar and my mom will end the engagement, by which time I'll be free to date Kurt openly, except this time, you'll be the poor little blonde girl who got  _justly_  screwed over," smirked Noah as he advanced on Quinn, the blonde stepping back a few paces as the man crossed his arms across his chest in victory. "Unless you've got proof or any evidence to support your accusations Q, you have nothing on Kurt and I. Nothing at all."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, baby. Anita caught you and Kurt kissing when he first stayed over all those weeks ego. She captured the kiss you two shared with her phone. I didn't want to believe it at first, thought it was a hoax, a photoshopped image, but after what I've seen tonight, I see it's true." Noah's heart plummeted. A shiver ran through him and as his throat gulped, his satisfied exterior disappeared. This could not be happening. Fucking proof was out there to support his affair and Quinn had the power to wield it with whatever level severity of malevolence she saw fit.

"You are to never see that boy again Noah, do you understand? If you do then I'll have no choice but to use the evidence of your affair against you and back out of this engagement on the charges of you being unfaithful," explained Quinn. "Both you and Hummel will be publicly embarrassed. Your mom will forbid you from becoming CEO, one by one, your investors will go down and the company will lose vast amounts of its assets and so on and so forth. From there on in, Puckerman will no longer symbolize success and economic power, but a corrupt and dysfunctional family full of scandal and lies."

"Quinn, you have no idea who you're dealing with. You may become a Puckerman by name but you'll never be one, and I'm telling you now, the moment you hurt my family, you will regret it. I mean it Q, don't fuck with me," growled Noah. "That goes for Kurt as well. Hurt him and I'll know. You don't have as much power around here as you think you do, Quinn, and if you think you know my mom as well as I do, you're wrong. My mom is not going to give a flying fuck that I'm with another guy, just as long as I'm not sleeping around. Oh, and one more thing, she's going to fucking love Kurt."

"Maybe, but whilst your mother might kiss the ass of that Debbie Wasserman Schultz woman or any other liberal politician, the company certainly does not. They're staunch Republicans are they not?" Replied Quinn smugly as Noah's arms began to loosen with doubt. "You really think the company is going to risk losing the reputation your dad, their founder spent years building? Just look at the name he created for himself. All of that will wither and die like that rotting plant you failed to care for in Biology class back in sophomore year if I let you destroy yourself."

"Bullshit. You don't want to stop me 'destroying myself' for the sake of the company. You've cared about nothing all your life but yourself and your own selfish gains," retorted Noah as he reaffirmed his position before he began to loom dangerously over the blonde, using every inch of his six foot tall height to further intimidate her. "You're never going to stop being that self-absorbed head cheerleader from high school, Q. You're always going to want to be in charge and I don't know what you want out of this marriage or why you're hanging on, but I will find out and when I do, I'll crush you with it."

"Not before I crush you first Puckerman, but of course that's up to you isn't it? Whether you're prepared to do what's good for you and your little Kurtie or not," replied Quinn malevolent taking a step forward so that both of their chests met. "In any case, now that I come to think of it, if your mom comes to know that you've been having an affair behind even her back, it won't matter which gender you've been fucking, she's still going to be pissed. She might love her gays but marriage is sacred and to have its upcoming bond nearly ripped apart before it's even started, well, that's just a deal breaker."

"Quinn, why are you doing this?" Asked Noah quietly, exasperation lacing itself into his voice though he fought to keep desperation from seeping out as well. He had half the mind to knock the women in front of him unconsciousness before locking her up in a closet and going after Anita or falling down to his knees like a condemned man pleading for his life, imploring her why on Earth she wouldn't let him go. For at this point, it looked very like he'd never see Kurt again, and that though in itself was enough to make crumble to the floor. "Tell me now Q, why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm teaching you vital lesson, Noah. You can't always get what you want. If you think I'm going to let you continue your affair once we're married then you are depraved. You'll be a man without honor whilst I'll be the poor fiancée who got cheated on. Pity will be thrown at me and I'll still have a chance to move on but with you, you'll be finished. Is that really what you want, Noah?" Pulling his sight away from Quinn, Noah went to see on the bed and stare at the opposite wall, the billowing of the curtains and the honks of horns from the city beyond echoing around his mind.

His family's company was, though he would never admit it aloud to many, sacred to him. It was a personal landmark of this father's and it symbolized his vast achievements and accolades in the business. For years, Noah had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and prove to all their investors and executives that he had it within him to be as great a businessman as his old man had been, but now sitting in his bedroom being threatened with its destruction, being forced to choose over its fate with being with the boy he loved, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't do it to all the employees that worked for the company, employees that would no longer be able to serve food at their own tables if he followed love's red road. He might have been self-centered and selfish in the past but he wasn't going to stoop as low as Quinn.

"Listen Noah, we are you going to go through with this engagement and you're going to marry me. After Harvard, you're going to take over the company as CEO and you're going to live up to your dad's legacy, be the son you were born to be," began Quinn, clearing her throat before heading towards the door. However, as she opened it, she turned around and looked at him, though his eyes were still glued on the opposite wall. "You'll soon forget about that boy, Noah. It wasn't meant to be. Trust me, one day you'll thank me when you come to realize just how close you were to losing it all."

As the blonde shut the door behind her, a single tear burst from its confines and rolled down Noah's tanned cheek, hitting his unbuttoned shirt below. Only now was reality hitting him full force. Quinn had won. First his mother had sacrificed his happiness for convenience and now his fiancée was further killing it by blackmailing him into staying. By going down this road, he was going to have to cut the first person he ever fell for out of his life. Kurt was going to exist as nothing more than a memory, a distant memory, a memory that stretched as far back as the evening they first met all the way to the evening they proclaimed their love for each other. Noah was never going to be able to see him, kiss him or touch him but the most painful of all; he was never going to forget Kurt. Ever. His heart would forever ache until Kurt was his again.

Noah was overcome by grief but he didn't want to cry. He didn't want to sweeten Quinn's victory by giving her the satisfaction of his tears, yet even though she'd left leaving him utterly alone in his room, he still fought them back. He was alone again. Alone. No real friend or love, just a fiancée as cold and austere as a 19th Century governess. It almost rendered life not worth living. Eventually bursting into tears of disparity, Noah flung himself back onto the bed where Kurt had once lain. There he savored the saccharine scent of his boy, the warmth of their romp since lost but the fragrance Noah had bought Kurt all those weeks ago still lingering. It was a scent he was never going to forget, a scent that would always remind him of Kurt but tear his heart apart at the same time, a scent that at that moment only seemed to scream and only scream: true love lost.

_To all you boys around the world stealing someone else's guy_  
_You're going around breaking hearts it ain't gonna work this time, I know your kind_  
_So very cheap, devoid of any class, there's no mistique from your assorted parts_  
_I'm still the boss, get lost, good luck, goodbye, run along and get your own guy._

**.**

**Glee**

**.**  

_Every boyfriend is the one until otherwise proven_  
_The good are never easy, the easy never good and love it never happens like you think it really should_  
_Deception and perfection are wonderful traits, one will breed love, the other hate_  
_You'll find me in the lonely hearts, under 'I'm after a brand new start'..._

Unlocking the door to his apartment with fumbling fingers, Kurt pulled it open and slammed it shut as he leaned his back against the wood, his keys falling to the floor as he enveloped his face in his hands. His eyes were welling, they were watering like nothing else but yet no tears seemed to descend, as if he had gone past the point of crying. Now as he pulled his fingers away from his flushed skin, he now saw that each and every tip was drenched in tears. There the liquid tickled down the long stems before pooling in his palms like miniature mirrors, reflecting the crumbling face before them. He'd been too petrified to cry back at Noah's apartment, his feet had been racing to quickly to find a taxi back here to cry even then, but now here he was by himself, slumped against his door with evidence of his sadness staining his hands.

Crying out in misery, Kurt pelted into his bathroom and washed his hands free of his tears, watching the salty liquid mix seamlessly into the water before disappearing down the drain. There he wiped profusely at his eyes with countless tissues until the skin around them was a raw shade of red, he scrubbed his hands with his bar of soap until the natural oils on his skin disappeared and the all the while, his body fighting desperately to keep him up right and standing. He had enough strength as to collapse on his bathroom floor and hit his head into unconsciousness but the sight he kept eye contact with in the mirror is what held his gaze, kept his body from falling apart. Kurt looked a mess. His hair was unkempt; his clothes ruffled, remnants of semen had dried on his stomach and his face, oh his face. The night's events screamed from his eyes.

It was a night that had started off so well. Noah and he had reconciled, they'd eaten Kurt's pizza on the way to the man's penthouse where they'd consummated their affair for the very first time. It would have been a night to remember, a corner stone and turning point in their love. In fact, they had been planning to approach Emily Puckerman the very next day, but of course, everything had fallen through with the appearance of a particular blonde. Quinn had walked in on him and Noah right after the most intimate experiences both of them had ever had. It had been the most shocking, humiliating and devastating occurrences Kurt had ever had and the flashing images of the betrayed expression Quinn had worn when she'd walked in was no doubt an expression he'd remember for a long time to come.

What was going to happen now? What was to become of him and Noah? Their affair had been unearthed, this time by the wrong person, leaving its fate uncertain. Though the way Quinn had threatened him, it was as good as dead. Unsalvageable, beyond the point of being resuscitated in the joyous life it once had. If only he and Noah had stayed here, away from interruption or if only Quinn had actually stayed with her friends like she said she would, then most likely they wouldn't be in this mess. However, this was no mess. This was so much worse than a simple screw up. Kurt had no idea what Quinn was going to do and that was the worst feeling of all. The uncertainty. Was she going to expose them? Was she going to keep everything under wraps? Or was she going to plow on and marry the man he was in love with anyway?

However, one thing was for sure, Kurt wasn't going to be able to see Noah ever again. Sure, he'd catch glimpses of him now and again on the television, the newspapers and at New York elite events but apart from that, their paths would never cross as long as Quinn was there to keep her hawk like eyes trained on Noah's every move, for she knew of them now, and Kurt would forever be a threat to her marriage even if the model had no intentions of messing with her. She'd manipulate the guest lists to bar him from attending celebrity functions and dinners where she and Noah were at. She'd forbid Noah from attending all fashion shows featuring Kurt and any subsequent after parties and no doubt, she'd burn all Noah's newspaper and fashion magazines featuring his face. She'd make Kurt as good as dead to her man.

Her man, Noah. Noah for a short number of weeks had been his man in secret, and though they'd had their fair share of drama, they'd felt for each other. In fact, Noah had felt so much for him from the beginning that Kurt began to wonder if the man hadn't fallen in love with him much earlier than he said he had. It was such a romantic thought, but despite Noah's great affection for him, was the man going to fight for him or was he going to let him go? Just the thought made Kurt's heart plummet. It wasn't fair. He'd just fallen back in love with Noah but now his heart was breaking very much as it had done. There it was, the familiar pain that he'd suffered from back in high school. Worse than any migraine, worse than anything really. The sheer emptiness was the real killer, though this time round, it seemed to return with a vengeance.

Seconds ticked away into minutes and minutes descended into hours. Kurt now found his body emerged in water as he lay motionless in his bathtub staring blankly at the tile wall. The temperature of the water had cooled drastically and his fingers were starting to prune. He'd been in the tub for very long time now with no intention of getting out until with a buzzing, his mobile alerted him of a text message. His heart now beat faster with the thought of it being Noah and as Kurt pulled himself out of the tub, he reached for a towel before diving into his jacket pocket strewn on the floor. Yes, thank God, it was indeed from Noah, but as he quickly unlocked his phone, Kurt began to read the message he would never forget, the message that would later lead him to do something New York City would always hauntingly remember.

_Kurt,_

_Baby, you have no idea how badly I want to see you right now. I don't know where you are or if you're back at your place but if you are, you know I'd be holding you in my arms if I were there with you. After you left, Quinn and I had a massive fight. I tried fighting for what you and I have, tried to tell her that we're in love and that we just want to be given a chance, but she wouldn't listen. She has proof Kurt. Proof of our affair and she says that if I don't give you up at once, she's going to the press to bring my family's company down including you and I can't let that happen, Kurt. I just can't._

_I'm so sorry it's come to this but we can't be together anymore. It's my fault. I was stupid enough to think that this could work out and what's worse is that you said something like this would happen, and I didn't listen. You were always there to tell me but all I did was barge through your doors and wouldn't fucking listen. You were right all along, but you have to know right now Kurt that nothing but how much I feel for you drove me to do it. I couldn't not have you as my own. I couldn't not have you all to myself because I'm in love with you baby and I'm sure I won't ever fall out of it._

_I would be telling you this face to face, or at least over the phone so that I could hear your voice. It's the least you deserve, but I can't. I just can't risk it. Another wrong move and Q's taking her evidence and ratting us out to the world, and I'm telling you now baby, that if this hadn't happened I would have brought you to my mom and officially made you mine. Remember Kurt, I will always love you with all my fucking heart and though I'm still set to marry Q and I'm forced to cut all contact with you, my heart will always belong to you, my sweet little angel._

_I'm sorry, my love._

_Noah xxx_

Kurt's blood froze in his veins as his whole body drained itself of all color. His eyes began to hurt from not blinking and his hands were shaking so uncontrollably that within the next second his iPhone was falling to the floor with a dull thud. However, whether the screen was cracked, he didn't care. The cracking of his glass heart eclipsed it all and it consumed him as towel fell down, leaving him naked in his rigor mortis like state. There was nothing now that he could pull comfort from, except for the fact that Quinn had kept their secret. Bittersweet as it was. For her tight hold on Noah was now so strong that Kurt could feel her predatory claws in the air, her mouth reading out the orders that Noah marry her and to forget about Kurt as a memory, a memory that hopefully in her eyes wouldn't withstand the ravages of time.

Forcing himself to move, Kurt stumbled out of his bathroom and towards his bed in only his dripping pale skin. His man's full tanned lips had kissed every inch of his skin and oh, how he wanted those lips on him now to heat him up from the night's chilling breeze coming in through the open window, but all he had was his wet skin as sprawled himself over his bed. He knew very well that Noah wasn't going to abandon his company and become a social outcast for him. Kurt knew very well that they wouldn't go flitting off somewhere to live in seclusion until the day they died no matter how hard their love shone for each other. It would only be a tiresome, hopeless and unhappy life yet just the thought of never talking to Noah or even kissing him for the last time, a goodbye kiss, a kiss to end all kisses, shattered his heart even more.

Noah and Quinn's engagement was rather a short affair compared to most. They'd only been together since the beginning of summer with the wedding bells of a winter wedding set to ring in December. It seemed all the Puckerman's including their men in suits at the company were determined to have Noah wed by the time the year was out, all except for Noah himself, and as Kurt lay on his bed, he pondered how he was ever going to survive these next few weeks. No doubt the wedding was going to be a well publicized event with a ceremony and reception fit for royalty with every newspaper and magazine brimming with images of the newly wedded couple. Just the thought made Kurt's will start to break but by this time, there was no more heart to break. It was now nothing but a pile of glass shards in his tortured soul.

No one except Noah himself could relate to what Kurt was feeling. The pain was excruciating. Enough to cry out and scream. Could he survive all of this? Did he want to? Did he even want to live without Noah? He knew that if he ended his life, it would not only harm his father's mental health, very much sadden his friends but also lead Noah if news of his death reached him to spiral down into a great depression. Kurt flinched. No. Suicide was not the answer. He was above that. It wasn't healthy or sane and he was just falling victim to his loss. Many people had survived heartbreak, but maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone just in case. It could help him. However, just the idea of sharing his affair with anyone else seemed very unwise. He couldn't risk it. He couldn't trust anybody not to go running off with his and Noah's secret.

Who could he turn to in his time of need? Who? He could turn to his father; listen to the man who'd raised him into the independent spirit that he was in the midst of a town that oppressed him. Burt would always be there for him, but then no. Kurt didn't want to fall back into the arms of his father as if he wasn't cut out for life and it's high as hell hurdles. He had two feet and damn it he was going to stand on them. Finally, there was always his friends. Carlson, Carmen and Lola were loyal to him. They knew him and would always have his back. Then there was Mercedes, his home girl who in the past had claimed him to be too independent for his own good. Maybe they she right. Maybe he was. All he knew was that he wasn't going to get anywhere by letting himself sink himself deeper and deeper into his now damp comforter.

As the moonlight began to stream through his window, Kurt freshened his bed and climbed in, still very much naked. Just for the last time, it wouldn't hurt to imagine Noah behind him, holding them as one, but just for tonight. He remembered from his first heartbreak experience that occupying the mind worked best for him so perhaps it was time he refocused on modelling, giving more time to his friends and maybe meeting someone new. Though he was still in love with Noah, maybe seeking casual company from a guy would ease the pain slightly. He needed to start afresh for much needed relief; an emotional painkiller that would help the image of Noah's helpless face out of his mind, for what was certain was that he would need a great distraction from the escalating pain that he knew wasn't going to recede.

_When everything is life and death you may feel like there's nothing left_  
_Instead of love and trust and laughter, what you get is happy never after_  
_But deep down all you want is love, the pure kind we all dream of_  
_But we cannot escape the past so you and I will never last._

_**.**_  

**Glee**

**.**

Two whole weeks following the fateful evening in Noah's bedroom and the tense air within the Puckerman penthouse had since settled, no longer clouding each room with its poisonous presence. Now the only sound within its walls was the humming of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock in the living room and the flicking pages of a fashion magazine as Quinn Fabray sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, scanning the latest issue of LOVE Magazine. On its cover showed the British beauty Cara Delevingne bathing naked in a bath with the text besides her reading, 'Cara Scrubs Up', with a quote from the model underneath reading, "You have to look at the camera like you want to fuck it." Quinn had met Cara once before at a party back in the summer. She was one of the few models who hadn't slept with Noah, but it was just as well.

Through this entire debacle with Kurt, Quinn wasn't fond of models right now, what with their emaciated figures and loose attitudes. In fact, if Kurt had been any other proud model, Quinn would have had one hell of a catfight that night, but thankfully, he hadn't. Kurt seemed to be displaying his common sense and intelligence because during these two whole weeks, the boy had not called, visited or even attempted to make contact with Noah what so ever that she knew of. She had since spent more time at the penthouse when not at Yale, limiting her excursions with friends in favor of become the devout wife she intended to become, and it seemed as though the furious storm she had created that night had indeed obliterated any chance of Kurt returning into their lives, restoring her engagement to the way it should be.

Plucking a grape from the bowl of fruit next to the magazine, Quinn smiled to herself. Everything was going back to the way it had been, to the time when she knew Noah was hers and no one else's. It brought her a lot of comfort and security, and despite the cold-hearted ugliness she'd had to unleash onto both Noah and his model, it was something she'd just had to employ. Maybe she would always retain the head cheerleading bitchiness from high school like Noah had said or maybe Santana was rubbing more off on her than she thought, though she had perfected her own take on it. Less violent and hostile she'd say, but more sly and cunning, hiding it all under an angelic smile that fooled everyone. Quinn exploited her pure look to her full advantage and no one suspected her of anything. It was the perfect disguise.

However, a marriage or even an engagement in her case wasn't a one-woman show. Whilst she'd behaved as if nothing had happened two weeks ago, Noah had been doing the exact opposite. For a full fourteen days, his behavior had become increasingly reclusive, cloistered and unsociable. Locking himself in his study or his bedroom for hours on end, Noah would bar himself off from the world, barely eating, hardly sleeping. His appearance was scruffier, his attitude had soured into trenchant bitterness and his whole being seemed as though it had been removed of the man he'd once been. Noah couldn't deal with talking to others or accepting society but above all, he couldn't take the sight of Quinn. His eyes would darken behind an emotionless mask every time he had the misfortune of landing his red-rimmed eyes on her.

For Quinn, it was unpleasant. She'd been on the receiving end of hatred many a time before, predominantly back in high school, but to receive it from Noah at a hatred so potent she often feared for her own safety, it made her very uncomfortable. Of course, she'd been relying on the man only thinking he'd been in love with Kurt and therefore moving on within the following days but now she knew she was wrong. She was currently living in a penthouse festering in the remains of heartbreak so painful she could not comprehend it, yet she'd been the cause of it. Many a time she'd pass Noah's bedroom where the only sound emanating from within was more often than not the smashing of furniture, followed by howls of rage ending with wail like weeping and muffled bawling. Noah really had been in love, and it had been true love.

Right now however, her fiancé was currently at Harvard. He'd left without any prior warning, only leaving Quinn a note on the kitchen counter expressing his leave, saying that he wouldn't return until the end of the week. It had been brief, to the point yet distant and it only seemed to echo the problems they were suffering from, but it was probably for the best. It wasn't healthy for Noah to wallow in his depression and a change of scenery would do him good, though she knew that from Noah's point of view it was only to escape New York in hopes of getting as far away from her as possible. She was poison to him now, a human repellent and at Harvard, Noah was free from her, yet despite his cold shoulder, Quinn still retained a vain hope that all this angst would deteriorate by the time of their wedding.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Fabray," greeted Anita as the maid emerged from the living room and into the kitchen, the hoover, dust pan and brush clutched tightly in her hands. Pulling her gaze away from the article she was reading, Quinn turned to look at her before nodding her head curtly, watching as Anita put away her equipment before dusting his uniform free from "Just to let you know I've freshened up the bathroom, I've aired all the bedrooms including Noah's and I've cleaned up his study as you instructed. Is there anything else you'd like for me to do?"

"No thank you Anita, I think that'll be all for now," smiled Quinn as Anita nodded before heading on over towards the kitchen sink where she began to wash her hands thoroughly. As she did, Quinn returned to her magazine but as she made to pluck another grape from out of the bowl, there was nothing. It seemed she'd eaten them all. Blaming the articles as well as the images for too engrossing, Quinn jumped off the stool and went to pick up a peach in the fruit bowl by the fridge but as she did, she eyed Anita with uncertainty. "Anita... do you still have the photos on your phone?"

"The photos of Noah and that boy? Yes miss, I do," confirmed Anita as she finished washing her hands, dying them with the towel beside the sink before turning to face the blonde. Letting out a small breath of relief, Quinn smiled slightly before walking back over to her magazine, taking a bite out from her peach as she continued to read the article she'd been looking at. Yet as she looked up, she came to see Anita opposite her, her eyes guarded and her voice hushed. "I have transferred them to my laptop at home just in case someone were to get a hold of them and delete them. Why? Do you need them now?"

"No, no I just wanted to know you still had them. We have to know where those photos are being stored at all times and only I will let you know when they're to be released if anything happens. Once Noah and I are married they can be deleted but until then, those photos cannot seen by anyone," instructed Quinn seriously as Anita nodded profusely, quickly grabbing a napkin for the blonde's juicy fruit before heading out. "Oh, and one more thing Anita before you go. I remember the pictures, partly because it shocked me but also because in it Noah looked so... well he looked-"

"Happy?"

"Well... yes. I've never really seen him that happy before. Have you?"

"Rarely, but that's love for you. I haven't seen him with a smile that big since he was little."

"Really? That long ago?"

"It has been a while, yes," began Anita as she sat herself down on one of the island counter stools. "The night Thomas Puckerman died in that car crash was the night I saw the light die from his eyes. That man was everything to him and to have him go the way he did, it devastated Noah. After that, he never really was the same. He never really recovered, was never really able to move on and at that young a age, it made it all the more difficult. The way he's been behaving recently is exactly how he was after Mr. Puckerman's passing. It's just his way of coping."

"You mean he ostracized himself from everyone around him?" Asked Quinn, watching Anita nod her head forlornly. For the maid, having watched helplessly as a nine year old Noah locked himself away from others and slowly but surely descended into a deep trench of self destruction had been heart wrenching to witness. She wished she'd never had to see it again, but now with Noah very much reliving such a state, she didn't think she'd be able to bear it this time. "Anita, I... I didn't realize it had affected him that badly. He hardly speaks of his childhood you know, much less his dad."

"It's too painful to speak of. That's why others around him know not to mention his father all that often," answered Anita as she clasped her hands together. "Years went by and he entered high school, but I always wondered if he'd been different had his father not died, because I hated what he became. Rude, abhorrent and vile. The obnoxious parties, the countless girls and that vulgar 'Puck' persona of his. He'd changed and although he's calmed down considerably since then I began to think I'd never see my precious Noah again, until I saw him with that boy."

"Wait a minute, so you're saying at the same time as you were photographing both Noah and Hummel being intimate, you watched as the boy you'd been wishing to see again for all these years reappear?" Questioned Quinn, narrowing her eyes in confusion as she failed on Anita's logic. It didn't make sense. Why would the woman do that a boy she cared for so much? "If you'd been waiting all this time then why did you want to ruin it? Why did you chase Kurt out of the apartment like you did when you knew that that boy was the reason why Noah looked so happy? Didn't you want him to be happy?"

"Of course I did Ms. Fabray, but it wasn't that model's job to bring back the boy we all wished would come back. It should have been you," answered Anita. "I couldn't allow that Hummel boy to return. I had to scare him off and although I risked my position here by doing so, I had to do what was best for Noah. I believe in marriage miss, and it didn't matter how happy I was to see Noah return in front of my very eyes after so long, what he was doing was wrong. You and him are to be joined together by God and the sanctity of marriage is sacred. I did what I had to do."

"Well, I appreciate what you did Anita. You did the right thing and don't worry about your position here. I'll keep you close where Noah can't touch you," reassured Quinn. "I just wish none of this had happened. It pains me that I'm not the one that has Noah that happy, but he asked me to marry him and it's my duty as his future wife to stick right by him through the good and the bad. My mom always said marriage was hard work, that you had to spend time on it no matter the cost and though it demands personal sacrifice it pays back in great rewards... but I'd like Noah to love me... someday."

"Ms. Fabray, I wish I could tell you for sure that he will but that at this point I really don't know," replied Anita helplessly as Quinn nodded somberly, her brown eyes descending to the counter surface where they stayed, downcast and disheartened. Yes, this marriage was going to be a lot of hard work. "He never really allowed himself to grow close to others less he lose them like his father and now that his heart is broken, I don't think he'll ever trust it with anyone else again. We can only hope that he learns to love again and that you'll be there with him when he does."

"Dream on, woman," came a dark yet tired voice from the living room as both Quinn and Anita turned their heads in surprise to see Noah dragging his suitcase to the coffee table and dumping his bag on the couch beside it. Quinn had been under the impression that her fiancé wouldn't be returning until later on this evening or even tomorrow morning or possibly not even until the eve of their wedding day, but here he was, looking much better than before albeit a little tired and worn out. "Still talking about me behind my back are we Q? Plotting something new with the maid? I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised."

"Anita, would you mind leaving us for a moment. I'd like to be with alone with Noah," began Quinn, Anita nodding obediently before scurrying out of the kitchen, careful to avoid Noah as he glared at her menacingly. However as the maid's hurried footsteps disappeared, all she left in her wake was silence. Truth be told, after this whole silent treatment ordeal, Quinn didn't know how to talk to Noah any more. He wasn't approachable and one wrong move could ignite a monstrous temper. "I'm... I'm happy to see back... honey. It looks like Harvard has done you some good. How was it?"

"Boring as fuck. All I did was sleep in my dorm room when I had no lectures and sleep when I did, though I aced my latest dissertation so it's all cool," shrugged Noah warily as he entered the kitchen and headed towards the fridge. There he pulled out a frosty ice cold can of beer and downed it in one swig, Quinn looking away in discomfort as he finished it off before crushing it in his bare hands and dumping it into the recycling bin by the sink. "I have to tell you now though Q that I will be spending more time over there, and if I like it, I may even study full time, who knows."

"Oh... well, whatever you think is best for you honey. It is your education and I'm sure your mom will be pleased to know of an earlier graduation," nodded Quinn, Noah scoffing darkly, his head shaking slightly as he went on over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a tin of chocolate chip cookies. However as he began to snack on one, Quinn sighed. Studying full time? And with their already conflicting schedules, they were sure to only see each other as little as once or twice every few months once they were wed. Just what Noah wanted. "Oh, and Noah, you look good. College looks great on you."

"Whatever. I don't care. It's not like I have anyone to look good for anymore."

"What do you mean you don't have anyone, you have me. Am I not worth looking good for?"

"No. In fact, don't be surprised if once we're married I let myself go with a pot belly and a muffin-top."

"Noah, you've got to get out of this attitude of yours. It's not healthy. You and Kurt are over. Accept that."

"I have fucking accepted it!" Roared Noah as he threw his half-eaten cookie against the wall with a crack before grabbing the jar and throwing it to the ground, its entire cookie contents smashing to pieces all over the floor. "Stop telling me to get over him, Q! Stop telling me to move on! You're not the one with the broken heart! You have no idea how fucking hard it was to type out that text, how hard it was to say to him that we're over! Know why, because it's _you_  who doesn't know shit about love, Quinn! It's  _you_  who knows only of how to break it and how to blackmail me with proof from a time when I was actually happy!"

"Noah, I did what I had to do for our marriage and for our future together. You didn't think I was going to turn a blind eye to your affair once I learned about it. What do you take me for?" Asked Quinn incredulously as she stood her ground against her fiancé. Noah's sudden outburst had made her jump and a piece of cookie had skimmed her leg, "Look, I'm only trying to do what's best for all of us, can't you see that? I'm going through with your mom's wishes and it's about time you did the same. Just grow up, Noah. Stop wallowing and be a man. It's about time you grasped what becoming an adult is all about."

"I'm twenty fucking years old, Quinn!" Barked Noah, his voice bellowing as Quinn winced. "Guys my age are dating, going out to clubs, living the life; it's what people do in their twenties! They're not getting married! They don't even want to get married yet, but here I am being forced to marry you all because my mom can't take the twenties single lifestyle, and even then I wouldn't be single because I'd have Kurt! It's bullshit that my life is being planned down to the tiniest detail for me! How am I supposed to become an adult if I can't be independent and free?! Tell me how Quinn!"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Noah. I'm not even going to talk to you if you're going to be like this. You're being incredibly stubborn, difficult and ungrateful," snapped Quinn. "While you stand there complaining of not being able to live a frivolous and superficial life, there are people out there who could only dream of what you have, Noah. People who have to live in cramped slums and sewage infested gutters where they've been forced penniless into the street without anything to their name. They are destitute and dying and all you can do is whine. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you donated to charity, Mother Theresa?! When was the last time you become a good Samaritan and offered money, food and shelter to a beggar on the street?! Never, because firstly you're greedy and second you avoid the streets where there are beggars because you can't bear to look at them!" Accused Noah. "My family has donated millions of dollars each year for years into various charitable programs! We've helped thousands and for you to sit on that hypocritical ass of yours and shame me?! You just don't know when to shut the hell up do you?!"

"Don't talk to me like that Noah, I won't stand for it. I can't imagine you spoke to your model that way so don't do it to me."

"I respected Kurt because he was everything to me. You Q, never... just... fuck, why couldn't you have let me have him?"

"Did you honestly see a future with that boy? It was an affair Noah; it wasn't going to go anywhere."

"Not with you in the picture it wasn't! We had plans!"

"I know all about your 'plans' Noah, as naive as they all sounded. Sure the first thing would have been to get rid of me but I wouldn't have been the sole obstacle to get in your way," replied Quinn. "Besides, after how everything turned out, you can't blame me for not trusting you. It was only really a matter of time before the hatred you have for this engagement tempted you into doing what you did before we actually got married, but I hope you know now that I will not stand for it. That will be the last time you cheat on me Noah, I mean it. Fidelity is a key cog in a successful marriage and-"

"Successful marriage?! At what point during this whole engagement did you think this was ever going to be a successful marriage, Q?! This whole thing was fucked from the start!" Scoffed Noah loudly "And as for all that fidelity crap, sorry to disappoint you Quinn but once we're married, I'm going to have to find myself a mistress or lover to satisfy my urges because even though you'll be my wife, I'm never going to fuck you. That's right, my mom's not going to get any grandkids whilst I'm with you, and as you now, nothing is certain of your place here until you bear me an heir."

"Noah, why are you being so disagreeable?! You can't be treating me like this, I'm your fiancée!" Exclaimed Quinn desperately as her breathing began to labour in fright. So much resentment was being thrown at her, so much anger, but at the mention of no sex and no grandchildren, Quinn's heart had skipped a beat. They already shared separate beds, they hadn't had sex since summer and the thought of Noah keeping a mistress to do what she herself ought to be doing, angered her. "I know you don't like me Noah, but how can you have so much hatred towards me? How can you-"

"Because my heart is broken, Quinn! Torn, ripped apart, bleeding! How can you just sit there and be so fucking blind to the damage you've caused?!" Shouted Noah "You know when I was a kid, marriage didn't interest me. I didn't think much about it, but as I grew up I always thought that if I ever did get married I'd have kids and there wouldn't be a mistress, because the person I'd marry would be someone I'd love and cherish for the rest of my life. You are not that person, Q. I don't love you and know that every day that we stay married to each other I'll wish you were Kurt."

Sighing to herself, Quinn looked back over to her edition of LOVE Magazine. This argument wasn't achieving anything except fueling hatred and only time could heal Noah's wounds, not her, but as Noah turned away from her, she flicked right onto the next page without thinking and gasped as her eyes landed on the double page spread feature of Kurt's latest interview and shoot with the magazine, the boy's face gracing its glossy pages. Unfortunately, her gasp had alerted Noah and as he turned around and caught sight of Kurt, slowly approaching before come to stand behind her, he peered over her shoulder and down on to the boy below. As a result, Quinn could only mentally hit herself. Nowadays any magazines featuring Kurt, she didn't buy, dealing her a huge fashion-reading blow, but it was all to prevent Noah from seeing him. A plan she had now failed on.

Kurt was looking stunning as always. His article went on from page after page with each page of him wearing haute couture outfits ranging from luxurious Giambattista Valli bone white and black chinchilla coats to envious inducing Alessandro Dell'Acqua white suits and gloves. However, as she admired Mario Testino's professional photography, she quietly gasped as with each page she turned, the less Kurt had on, as if it were an erotic flip book, and amongst the teasing pictures that would easily make even the most flirtatious woman around jealous were sultry photos of the model sprawled on a white bed with only a near see through white silk dressing gown for company. Beside him was a blue-rimmed food tray topped with golden brown toast, luscious green and purple grapes, honey colored egg yolk and smooth milk chocolate truffles.

The article was appropriately named 'Sex for Breakfast' with 'Kurt serves you breakfast just the way you like it' written underneath. For Quinn, it only helped in conjuring up memories of the night she'd walked in on the boy serving sex to her fiancé as Kurt had laid there under Noah in post coital bliss, and as she attempted to close the magazine, not wanting to look anymore at the boy who had successfully done what she could have only dreamed of doing, to melt the heart of an otherwise guarded soul, she was swiftly stopped by a large tanned hand as it landed on the paper with a thud. Quinn froze, her heart accelerating as Noah's fingers softly graced the outline of Kurt's slender body. First, came the long lithe legs, then up and down the curvaceous hips and finally to the crown jewel of it all, the boy's morning dew face, shining bright like a diamond.

Quinn continued following Noah's traveling fingers intently, taking in exact spots when the man would pause over an area of the glossy image before resuming, the sound of his lips licking quietly in desire indicating to her that Kurt was always going to be the beautiful sex siren she would never be. These were the pictures and only pictures that Noah would sink into, feast himself over and pleasure his heart's content to, and no ordinate amount of Quinn in arousing lingerie would change his mind. For Noah, whilst the scenery of Cambridge, Massachusetts may have looked good on him, heartbreak definitely looked good on Kurt. His love looked beyond beautiful, indescribable, it took his breath away but as he turned to the following page, the page landing silently, without noise or disturbance, that breath never came back. Noah couldn't breathe.

"Oh my God... no...," whispered Noah, his voice coming out hitched as his face crumpled. There on the page was a full length studio photo of Kurt sitting in the lap of another man, the interview revealing in Kurt's own words that his new beau, Joshua Maxum and he were 'dating' and that they'd met at the Balencia ball a few months back. Noah's eyes went black. Kurt, his Kurt was seeing the guy he'd met at the Balencia and only after a fucking week? How could the boy do that do him? Didn't he know how Noah would feel if he ever found out? Was Kurt even heartbroken? Did he love Noah no longer? "Kurt... baby, no..."

"Noah? Are you-"

"Just look what you've done, Q!"

"No Noah, stop looking at it! Close the magazine!"

"Look at it!"

"Ow! Noah, let go of me!" Cried out Quinn as Noah restrained her arms before grabbing hold of her finger and forcing it to point to the picture of Kurt and Joshua, their happy faces smiling back at the writhing couple above them as Quinn attempted to wrestle Noah off of her. The man's anger was fast returning, the fear of loss overcoming him once more for he had lost again. He had lost the second person after his father, he had lost Kurt to someone else, someone who was free to be with him openly... and there was nothing he could do. "Noah, take your hands off me! You're hurting me!"

"You know what Quinn, you're right, the only person I should be taking to bed is you but all I feel like doing is bending you over this counter, lifting up your skirt and fucking you whilst I look at all those pictures of Kurt! How would you like that, Quinn?! How's that for fidelity?!" Roared Noah as he forced Quinn's back against him. "You think you're the only one who can fight dirty? I was  _the_  badass back in high school, Q! I threw more dweebs in the dumpster than anyone else did, I made slushying what it is today and I ruled that place. So don't think I'll go all Tex Watson on your ass because I will!"

Eventually releasing Quinn's abused wrists, Noah's hand slammed down onto the glossy paper of the magazine and clenched its way around the picture of Kurt and Joshua until it was crumpled beyond repair, but it didn't stop there. In an explosion of anger, the man picked up the whole magazine and began tearing it to shreds, hundreds of ripped up paper remnants soon raining down and finding themselves on the floor amongst the corpses of smashed cookies. As he cried out, Noah threw the spine of the book on the floor but before storming out, he caught sight of a particular torn shred of paper with Kurt's face on it from the breakfast photoshoot. Picking it up, he looked at it before once again tracing the boy's face with his finger, a whimper escaping his trembling lips as yet another heartfelt whimper emanated from his broken soul.

He didn't care about Quinn as she nursed her wrists and arms in the wake of the kitchen mess, he didn't care at all about how he'd behaved. All he wanted to do was flee and run away with this sole picture of Kurt crushed hard against his heart. His bedroom door slammed shut behind him as he locked it. He flung himself onto the bed and buried his face in his pillows as he drenched their covers in his tears. There he wept and wept and wept. He prayed desperately that Kurt hadn't moved on, begging it not to be true and as he pulled the piece of paper he'd held against him out from under and brought it up to his eyes, so that it might feel as though those exquisite blue orbs he treasured beyond belief were looking right back at him as they once had, his heart collapsed.

_Don't leave me, Kurt. You promised. I know someday we'll be together again, but just please, don't carry on without me..._


	20. Wedding

Carlson Palmers found himself sitting at the foot of Kurt's bed one bright and sunny afternoon, a newspaper in his lap as his hands blindly felt for the bag of Madeleines sitting right next to him on the comforter. Kurt had introduced the little French cakes about an hour ago and the man just couldn't get enough. They were so light and buttery that he'd nearly finished off all twelve sachets in the bag, now only leaving one left as his fingers felt for it, his eyes still trained on the article he was intently reading. Today was the wedding day of Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray, one of the most anticipated weddings of the year. The page he was currently on was one of many that stretched the story for its vivacious readers and had in it everything one needed to know about the couple if you really had been living under a rock for the past year.

Back-stories of the couple and their families had been printed, their high school days where they had first met were also covered and the way Noah had romantically proposed to his blonde fiancée had all been crammed in for Carlson to shake his head at disapprovingly. Kurt had been right all along. With the formal engagement pictures of both Noah and Quinn smiling back up at him, he couldn't help noticing how mind bogglingly fake it all was. It didn't help that every single image taken looked awfully staged, but that the wooden expressions of the couple looked as if they were being photographed by terrorists with guns to their heads if they didn't cooperate and put up the mask of young love shining at its brightest. In fact, if it had been anyone else, Carlson would have laughed but after everything with Kurt, it was just tragic to behold.

Closing the newspaper, Carlson sighed. He had half a mind to tear out every page to do with the Puckerman wedding. He didn't want Kurt seeing this. It would only dampen the spirits of an otherwise recovering boy, something that wouldn't do him any good. Then again, if he were to do that, there wouldn't be all that much left of the paper except the adds, and those weren't worth keeping, so without hesitation, he rose from the bed and headed into the kitchen, dumping the offending paper into the recycling bin beside the sink. There. Now there was one less reminder for Kurt, and Carlson felt happy that he'd helped out. He'd originally only come round to return Kurt's Girls Generation Hexology music video DVD that he'd had a hold on for months since that day in the Monarch Theater's dressing room, but now, he was glad he'd stuck around.

For today was not just a big day for Puckerman and Fabray, not only was it the day belonging to a pair so obviously out of love that Carlson began to pity the kids they may bear, but it was also Kurt Hummel's. Kurt was currently in the bathroom washing, getting dressed and gussying up for a high profile photoshoot set to be shot in Central Park. Lately the park had been the number one hot spot for shoots this season, not only because it resembled the country side when the city's skyscrapers or various buildings weren't in view, meaning less time and money having to go looking for locations in the actual country side, but because there was a certain charm to it that gave each photoshoot that special something, like a secret ingredient in a recipe that rendered on otherwise boring, bland and uninspiring dish into a masterpiece.

Knock! Knock! Knock! On his way back to Kurt's bedroom, Carlson stopped as he eyed the door. He'd been in a similar situation where he'd been merely hanging around, Kurt had been in the bathroom fixing himself up and a loud knock had rattled the wood. It was serious case of déjà vu but this time Carlson was hoping a deranged looking billionaire wasn't on the other side, for that had not ended well. What puzzled him was that to enter the building, one had to be buzzed into it from the person you intended to see. He'd had to do it about an hour ago when he'd first arrived but it looked as if these people Kurt seemed to be attracting to his door had a way of getting in without having to do any buzzing. The thought was disturbing to say the least but as he opened the front door, he found the man before him wasn't at all.

"Hi... um, is Kurt in? I'm Joshua, I'm here to take him to his shoot," began Joshua, Carlson giving the man before him a once over before nodding and stepping back. Joshua Maxum was Kurt's boyfriend. They'd been casually dating for around two weeks now after Kurt and him had crossed paths once again at a fashion show after party and what they seemed to have was a cute, innocent and fun relationship that was, at least to Carlson anyway, interesting to watch. Now, as he led Joshua into Kurt's bedroom, he smiled before quickly snatching the last Madeleine on the duvet. "Where's Kurt? Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's in the bathroom. Just touching himself off," replied Carlson as both men chuckled. To them, what Kurt was doing was pointless. He was making himself up to be made up later at the shoot and Carlson hadn't resisted teasing the boy on it, something Kurt always lightly shrugged off. His chuckles however subsided as Carlson turned around to look at the bathroom door and hear some shuffling until with a turning click of the lock, out came Kurt. "And here he is, our little photoshoot prince, out from his stuffy powder room ready to tackle on the camera. Oh, and your boyfriend's here, Doll face."

"What are you now Carlson, my butler? Answering my door, waiting on my boyfriend, announcing me into my own room. You sure I'm supposed to be paying for your service, because to be honest you're doing quite a good job of it," smiled Kurt, walking from the bathroom door to his boyfriend sitting at the foot of his bed. There they pecked each other on the lips before Kurt picked up his jacket and slid on his shoes, his wallet soon planting itself safely into his pocket."Right, well I'm ready to go. I have to be down there in fifteen minutes otherwise Bunny will be mad."

"You've got everything you need? You don't want to be coming back here if you realized you've left something," warned Joshua as he rose from the bed, following Kurt towards his door as the boy began to double check everything he had. As far as his experience went, models didn't need to bring much to shoots except for their freshly washed faces and woken bodies. However after suffered once from a rookie mistake, he'd learned to always bring your iPod, a book, or even a laptop, anything which could hold over the large amount of waiting around that could often arise at these long location shoots.

"Yep, I think I have, let's go, oh and Carlson, I now you meant only to drop off the DVD but you can stay here a little longer if you like, you don't have to go now, just as long as you don't go sneaking around. These walls have eyes and my furniture can talk so be good," smiled Kurt back at his friend as the man rolled his eyes before returning the grin from his leaning perch on the living room archway. He supposed he could stay here a little longer, raid Kurt's fridge if there actually any carbs in it or browse his TV for the adult channels, if Kurt actually had a TV. Damn. "Oh and another thing Carlson, no girls!"

Nodding his head obediently, Carlson waved the young couple goodbye as the door shut firmly behind them, the sounds of their footsteps descending the stairs disappearing eventually into silence. There really wasn't much point staying in here without Kurt. There was nothing to do. The boy was the main source of entertainment within these apparently listening walls and he had already exhausted the music video DVD. He'd watched it around fifty times for they had all been that good. Not only because this Artie boy had a great visual eye when it came to cinematography but because Kurt had been awesome with his moves, looks and everything. Not that Kurt wasn't any good as a model because he was, there was just something about it that he believed wasn't totally satisfying to Kurt. Something was missing, but not only career wise.

Kurt was still in love with Noah. It was plain to see in the little things the boy tried to hide or obscure from view whenever the man's name cropped up in a conversation, or if the Puckerman heir managed to make his presence known some other way, via Kurt's thoughts. The whole thing was sad to watch. It truly was, for no single one of Kurt's friends had enjoyed watching him conceal his feelings with a mask, like corrective cover-up makeup for the soul. They knew a heart was broken under that pale as porcelain skin so they had all known better than to draw attention to it. Kurt had thrown himself back into his work and his modeling career was as steady and as grounded as ever. Whenever Carlson came across him in whatever magazine, professionalism and class was all he saw posing back at him, but an image, nothing but an image, one he saw right though.

The introduction of Joshua Maxum as the new man in Kurt's life had been surprising to everyone. Of course it had not received nearly as much attention from the press as with Noah and Quinn, but from the boy's personal circle of friends, it had been all they'd been able to talk about. Joshua was a handsome, rugged and overall good man that no one had been able to find a fault with as of yet. He was twenty-one years old and had just graduated from Columbia University with a law degree where he had high hopes of becoming a layer, a prospect that had intrigued everyone especially Kurt. As a result of his college days and charismatic charm, Joshua had many high friends in many high places, explaining his appearance at the Balencia Ball and how he'd run into Kurt once again at a fashion event not too long ago.

It was because of this that the day found Joshua escorting Kurt to his photoshoot, the man's hand in the crook of the boy's back as they entered the vibrant park. For Kurt, Joshua was very much the same build as Noah. The man's favorite sport that went as far back as elementary school was swimming, meaning that beneath the tee shirt Joshua was wearing was a body decorated in a maze of muscles, a real swimmer's body that had Kurt feeling all gooey and school boy like inside. Though the thrill evaporated as quickly as it had soared as the thought of Noah crossed Kurt's mind once again. He knew the wedding was today. He knew that the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine was the church that would be joining both Noah and Quinn in holy matrimony and he knew that no matter how hard he'd try to lose himself in front of the camera, he'd think of Noah.  _His_  Noah.

"Are you alright, Kurt? You look a little nervous," observed Joshua as Kurt looked up at the man to see him looking intently back at him. Was he alright? He didn't know. Was he nervous? Of course. His agency could not have stressed enough how important this shoot was, not only for the designers but also for him. It was very high profile, as Vogue had wanted Kurt to pose in their leading double page spread feature this upcoming issue, and on his back would be especially selected outfits from the latest season collections of various celebrated household names in fashion. "Baby, it's all right to get the butterflies."

"That's the first time you've called me that."

"You don't mind do you?"

"Of course I don't, it's cute."

"Are you sure?"

"Plenty sure... baby," smiled Kurt, Joshua kissing him lightly before tightening his hold on him before leading them over to the photoshoot's white marquees. It just wasn't the same. It just wasn't. Back during his relationship stint with Blaine, Kurt had always been referred to by his first name, nothing else. However, when he'd been with Noah, only then had he been referred to for the first time by a term of endearment. 'Baby', 'Babe', and 'my sweet little angel' were all terms that to Kurt had been coined by Noah just for him. Anyone else who'd call him as such would just be using Noah's words. Stealing them.

However, the one thing that was the same was the shoot's array of white marquees. They had all been built in the exact same spot as they had last time Kurt had been here and as a result, thoughts of Noah clouded in his mind yet again. He remembered when he'd spotted Noah crossing the lawn to chat to the other models. He remembered avoiding him only to end up landing on his ass after an embarresing lollipop gig and he remembered the walk they'd had afterwards, followed by a delicious lunch at Mangia. Kurt now remembered those simpler times fondly when not everything had been complicated with affairs and secret. How they'd just been him and Noah as friends, hanging out and just talking. However, thinking about it now, he couldn't help suspecting that there'd been a sexual undercurrent between them, an invisible tether of attraction that had pulled them together, overtaken them and controlled them like the fools they'd been.

"I suppose I'll pretend like it's any other shoot. Perhaps that'll take the edge off," suggested Kurt as they rounded the The Lake before passing the Cherry Hill Fountain where a sailboat painted in blue and white stripes had been harbored at the water. It was a very pretty boat, rocking an inviting sailor look that made anyone want to jump in and sail their sweethearts away across the water. Kurt believed it was actually part of the shoot, since he'd heard that a boat was to be involved in the whole thing but as they approached the marquees, he turned attention to his boyfriend. "You sure you want to hang around. It might get boring after a while."

"Not with you in the picture it won't. I've always wanted to know how you get so sexy photos."

"I'll be even sexier with you looking at me."

"Damn straight. I won't take my eyes off you."

"I'll look forward to it."

"See you later then, all right. By babe," smiled Joshua as he ducked his head to plant a soft kiss on the boy's lips before Kurt smiled back and disappeared into the marquee. The kisses weren't the same. They just weren't. Joshua was a good kisser, soft, tender and very sexy, but his kisses were nothing compared to the tingling passion that erupted from Noah's full lips. There was no comparison, no competition and Kurt had half a mind to declare it, to declare to Joshua that there was no point competing with Noah, he'd never win. Yet Noah wasn't here to compete over. He was gone. That time had gone.

"Hi Kurt! How's my favorite little porcelain model," greeted Charlotta, turning to see Kurt coming towards her, a small smile stretching across his face as she began to organize the vanity desk. As he sat down, the boy removed his jacket and set it aside as he continued to smile at the way his makeup artist studied a photo of what his makeup was to look like before putting it down and selecting the products she would be needing. "Well, this will be nice change. They're allowing us to go a little more adventurous with the makeup this time. More blues. You'll be one bonnie sailor in that boat, Kurt."

"So, I am going to be in a boat, aren't I?" Asked Kurt as Charlotta nodded enthusiastically, Kurt sinking more comfortably into his chair as he stared at his reflection. However, as his eyes bore into his own, the world just seemed to fade away, as the mirror began to melt, liquid glass trailing onto the desk like silver droplets. his skin was numb because there Charlotta was, spreading primer all over his face like spread, but yet he couldn't feel it. It was also as if he was deaf for there his makeup artist was, talking and chatting, her mouth moving and her tongue moving even faster yet no sound came out. Nothing.

He felt empty, that's what it was. He felt empty, but this wasn't a recent development. In fact, he'd felt like this for a long time now, ever since his breakup with Noah. A gash like wound had appeared in him along with his broken heart and fears of loneliness, helplessness and doubt had overtaken him. He supposed this explained his need for his surge in modeling. When he modeled, he could be someone else, dressed in someone's exotic costume and disguise. He could enjoy a narcissitic form of escapism to leave behind that naive boy from Lima, Ohio. For Kurt, being photographed was like being caressed without danger and the boy wanted now above all to be desired, so as not to know whether he was still loved by Noah or by anyone else. The camera loved him. It would never leave him and he would never be replaced, for the camera wanted him.

Now however as he was dolled up and made pretty for his lensed lover, as if he were about to cheat with it in front of his boyfriend for the thousandth sinning time, Kurt couldn't help but think someone else was getting made pretty for their special someone. Hair spray was raining down on their coiffeur masterpiece of blonde hair, blush was being dusted on to accentuate their natural rosy cheeks and a white dress was draped around their body as if the shade could only bring out the fairness of their alabaster features. Yes, Quinn Fabray was no doubt in front of her own vanity mirror holding her gaze as bridesmaids flew about her like fairies to make her look her best for the man she was to marry. This was to be the happiest day of her life and both she and Kurt were to look at their most beauteous, yet only one would appear as nothing but an apparition.

With the retraction of the large powder brush, Charlotta was finished. Kurt had been on enough photoshoots to know when she was satisfied with the end result by the accomplished smile that would grace her lips but that was the thing, he didn't want her to stop. He didn't want her to be finished. As he looked in the mirror, the image before him was indeed bonnie, but Kurt wanted more. He wanted to be beautiful, or if not, more beautiful. He knew he was sinking into something, that the only thing that would save him was having his picture taken, but the only way to truly entice the camera as if it were a man was to be beautiful for it. After all, had that not been the reason why he'd become a model. Had Noah not approached him because he'd been beautiful? Beauty was all he had now. It was the last thing he had when life became unlivable.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

As the double glass doors to her Upper East Side park building were opened by the two gallant well-dressed footmen, Quinn Fabray floated out onto the sidewalk and towards the awaiting limousine before her. This was it. This was her wedding day for she was about to marry her handsome fiancé, Noah Puckerman, in a celebration that easily challenged and outdid many of their competitors, including the American royal family, the Kennedy's. Everything had been organized by Emily Puckerman, everything from the church to the reception venue at the plaza, including Quinn's classic Vera Wang dress which now, as the bride-to-be escaped the shade of the front door canopy, instantly reflected the sun's rays like a fiery beacon, as if from afar it rendered Quinn naked underneath a blinding glow of light. No one could outshine her on this day. No one.

The blonde nodded courteously back at the chauffeur as he held open the limousine door out for her, and as she lowered her head, she held her white dress close to her. Creases, she knew, could appear if apiece of clothing was positioned in a wrinkled fashion for extended lengths of time and so she did her best to make sure that her masterpiece of couture was set out neatly around her as she settled herself comfortably in the back seat. There to meet her were all her accompanying bridesmaids, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce, Tina Cohen Chang, Sugar Motta and Lauren Zizes, all clad in Terra Rose shaded gowns that were made from the same chiffon like material as Quinn's dress itself, a material that was especially popular in Asia for its lightness and volume of flow, giving off a greater illusion of walking on air.

Quinn was so happy that she'd trusted Emily Puckerman when it came to the dress. Vera Wang was the one designer you went for when it came to weddings, no one else. Her salon at the Carlyle Hotel showcased her collections known for sophisticated drama, feminine detailing and a modern approach to bridal design. Every single dress had resonated with Wang's signature layering, intricate draping and exquisite attention to detail but when Quinn had discovered that her appointment was with none other than Vera Wang herself, acting as her personal consultant, she'd nearly fainted. It had been such an honor to be advised by the Empress of Wedding Dresses herself, and she had so much to thank to her mother in law, Emily, for being like the pushy Italian mother she'd never had. She now had  _the_  dress for  _the_  wedding. Perfect.

"You look beautiful Q, and you have no idea how glad I am that we girls here aren't wearing gowns that belong in some tragic southern state prom dress store or better yet, a clearance bin. Good old Vera Wang," smiled Santana as all the girls around her nodded their heads in agreement. They'd been terrified about what they'd have to wear to the wedding, prayed beyond God that they wouldn't resemble Little Bo Peeps or Pink Marshmallows. "You know, for once in my life, being a bridesmaid doesn't revolt me so much as... Oh God Berry, you're crying already? What is with you?"

"It's all right Santana, let her cry. You know as well as I do that once those waterworks start to run they won't stop leaking until the tank is empty. Isn't that right, Rach'?" giggled Quinn as Rachel attempted to hide her face in the tissues she'd since pulled out. "Anyway, I'm glad you like the dresses Santana because the truth is, most girls think that being a bridesmaid is irritating, embarrassing and humiliating, but you're going to change that, all of you. Today's photos are going to be seen by everyone and I'm sure that after my wedding, every girl's faith in bridesmaids will be rightfully restored to the way it was."

"Really? It think that movie  _Bridesmaids_  already did that," muttered Brittany, tapping her finger against her chin in thought as the limousine purred around them like the sleek vehicle that it was, although this time, Quinn hoped that nothing or no one would come between her and her Noah. "Oh Q, I'm just so happy you're getting married. It's like you're reliving Prom Night in high school except this time, you won't be crowned queen of anything, but you'll be made Noah's wife. His wife! I mean it's like such a grown up thing to do that I can't help feeling like teenager again."

"Brittany, you'll always be our little teenager," laughed Quinn as she leaned over and tickled Brittany's chin light heartedly, the cute blonde giggling as everyone sported smiles at the childlike reaction. "Besides, this is going to be so much better than Prom, even if I was crowned Prom queen. That night, it was like the teen equivalent of a wedding, all fun and games, a memory I'll store in my high school scrapbook forever but this is like the real deal, and even though I won't legally become an adult for another couple of months, I think I'm ready for this. I'm settling down."

"Settling down? Quinn, you've got nothing to settle down from," remarked Tina as everyone turned to face her. It was true. Apart from perhaps a wildly eventful set of high school years full of parties, pep rallies and boys, Quinn hadn't much to retire from. Her life had barely started. "I mean we're in your twenties, aren't you to spend them dating, going through a mismatches of boyfriends and girlfriends until you find 'the one'. I mean, I love Mike, but at the moment I don't know if he's the 'the one', whether I want to marry or not. I think I'd like to give it more time and have a good time at that."

"Tina, honey, this is my idea of a good time and plus if you think about it, I lived my twenties in my teens. I've gone through all the 'mismatches' and all that, just in high school," explained Quinn as Tina nodded, but furrowed her brows as if struggling to grip onto such naive logic. "I know what I'm doing is by no means conventional nowadays, especially for a New Yorker, but I want to start my life with Noah now. I don't need to spend another decade dating a list of other guys to know he's the man I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life. I already know it, and so that's why I'm here."

"Ooh, ooh, Q, remember when he had that massive crush on you back in freshman year. He had such a thing for you but you just couldn't stand him," squealed Sugar bouncing up and down in her seats as all the other girls began quietly laughing. However, as Quinn pulled her glossed lips into a nostalgic smile, she couldn't help how things with her and Noah had been flipped. Oh how things had changed. "I would have loved to have seen your face if someone were to have let you know that you would be marrying the same guy who hovered around you like a crazed Justin Bieber fan."

"Well, it's not that I couldn't stand him, it's just that he was just so annoying at times. I mean he'd brag for hours on end from the only winning touchdown in football in sophomore year to that sugar pepper he ate on a dare and didn't even puke. I mean, to me he was nothing but an attention seeking man child with a terrible haircut," reminisced Quinn. "Always giving the 'dweebs' hell, sleeping with every cheerleader in the squad and skipping classes. He wasn't dating material at all. I couldn't picture bringing him home to see my parents, he just wasn't the sort of boy I pictured going out with."

"Yet you're marrying him. What changed?"

"Well, he shaved off that Mohawk for starters."

"What else?"

"He's got drive and ambition. He's now more responsible and mature, and that ladies, is my kind of man."

"I see... so you're not just marrying him because he's the heir to a wealthy worldwide conglomerate?" Suddenly asked Lauren, cutting Sugar off as everyone to turned to face her with expressions of shock. It really was as if the air had been sucked right out of the limousine and replaced with something much colder and damper than before. "Sure, Puckerman may have matured away from his promiscuous high school days into the Harvard hunk that he is today, but something's telling me that's not it. Drive and ambition is all very well, but when you're set to be CEO, it just makes it that much juicer, no?"

"Lauren! How can you... how can you ask me such a thing? This is my wedding day!" Exclaimed Quinn incredulously as she looked over at Lauren at the other side of the limousine with insulted eyes, all the girls in caught in between glancing between the bride and her maid of dishonor. "If you're suggesting I'm marrying into Noah's family for money, then you are deeply mistaken. I love that man with all my heart and so does he, and to have you sit there and accuse me of being a cheap and common gold digger is just so offensive! I half a mind to stop this limo and forbid you from attending the wedding!"

"What, so I won't be there to jump up and give the dean the reason for why both you and Noah shouldn't to get married when he asks? Makes sense," shrugged Lauren. "Quinn, all of us here were at your engagement party and to say you were less than thrilled would be an understatement. You looked at Puckerman liked you've always looked at him, as if he repulsed you, like a mistake you regretted. You didn't care when he flirted with other women, just as long as he wasn't flirting with you, so what's the deal, Q? Why the change of heart? It's not like anything happened during the engagement... right?"

"Lauren, I don't know what you're talking about, but if you're not going to support both me and Noah in celebrating our love for each other then I want you out of this wedding, and out of our lives," seethed Quinn as the limousine came to a slow stop in front of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. The bride was supposed to be let out first, but the minute the chauffeur opened the passenger door, all the other girls instantly clambered out leaving only Lauren and Quinn to coldly stare at each other. "I mean it Lauren, if you ruin this day for me, you're going to be the one regretting."

"Mediocre threat from a once proud high school head cheerleader. You used to dish out much stronger venom back then," taunted Lauren. "But 'love', Q? Really? I just can't help but think of what that word really means to you, because let's face it, you're not in love with Puckerman, you're in love with the idea of what you're going to get once you marry him. There's the crucial difference. I remember back in high school when you dated a guy just for his huge ass swimming pool and even in senior year, you used Noah to get that plastic Prom Queen tiara on your head. Have you ever actually dated a guy for the guy?"

"What? Of course I hav-"

"Liar. You've always thought of materialistic gain in all of your so-called 'relationships'. No wonder they were mismatched. Once you got as much as you could get out of one, you'd go onto the next and the next and the next," snarked Lauren. "All these years you've been practicing your confidence tricks, fooling the parents, manipulating their sons and hiding your own greedy agenda so that when it came to the 'real deal', the Puckerman fortune, a gain so big you'd never have to waste your time with boys again, you would be a professional. Yet getting Noah to propose, that was the real challenge."

"Lauren-"

"You went to Emily Puckerman herself, and it wasn't until you'd got her comfortable in her own living room that you brainwashed her," began Lauren. "There you distorted her mind with fearful images of her Noah dying alone after countless flings and one night stands, fears that he'd topple the company into the gutter from a crippling depression brought on by palpable loneliness, and only then did you pounce in the wake of her vulnerable state of delusion and claim that the only way to help Noah was to have him marry you, that only you would make him happy and that only you could save him from his destructive lifestyle, give him the life he'd always wanted."

"How did you-"

"And as for the thorn in your side in the form of a beautiful model, I know about Kurt Hummel, the little Marilyn Monroe to your John Kennedy, huh Jackie O?" smirked Lauren. "Not everyone dismissed Noah's little stunt at the Balencia Ball, Q. It was obvious what was going on between the two of them that night, and you know it. You saw how Puckerman looked at that boy and you knew you'd lost him the moment they met on that dance floor. Now being cold and distant didn't seem like a good idea anymore, so you began to act, but guess what Quinn, you may be studying at Yale Drama but you're not that good of an actress."

"Get out!"

"Oh I will, because this wedding of yours is nothing but a sham constructed on a foundation of lies, deception and fraud," accused Lauren as she made her way towards the door and exited the car, turning around as Quinn refused to look at her. "Know this Quinn, even though I may no longer be here to taint the marriage that's only been convenient for you all along, don't count on only me knowing exactly what you are and what you've done. There are six thousand people sitting in that nave, and amongst them all will be someone who can't wait to bring you down like the money leaching bitch that you are."

Turning to look at the girl with eyes wide in shock, Quinn's mouth gaped open as Lauren erupted into a low sinister laugh before retreating from the limousine and sauntering away, disappearing into the crowd of onlookers and paparazzi surrounding the area. However, as she left, Quinn could only stare fixedly at the seat where the girl had once occupied. She couldn't breathe. She hadn't taken a single breath throughout Lauren's entire onslaught of accusations, for each word that had come torpedoing out of that mouth had unsettled her greatly, stunning her into submission. How on Earth had all this come about? It had only been fifteen minutes since she'd left the apartment and already she felt like she was sweating enough for her dress to slide right off her body. Where had Lauren got all of this from?

Stepping out from the limousine with as much grace as she could muster after what she'd been subjected to with her face smiling just as brightly as if nothing had happened, Quinn laughed and lifted her hand to wave at the paparazzi kept back from the entrance by steel road barriers. There they shouted at her to come closer, to pose for them, to give them the best picture before she went in, asking her who she was wearing, how did she feel and every other question they'd been instructed to ask from whichever paper or magazine they represented. However, Quinn had not hung around and chatted. She'd climbed the stairs with her posse of bridesmaids as quickly as she could and to hell with pictures. She didn't want those cameras to capture her. They could see right through her, as if the flash before the shot were like an X-Ray scan, revealing everything.

Relieved that she was in the safe confines of the cathedral, Quinn watched as one by one her bridesmaids strutted down the aisle with their heads held high and their lips wide, their manicured hands choking the stems of their individual miniature bouquets to death. It looked as if Quinn wasn't the only one wishing to forget what had gone down in the limousine, and they had the right to do so. Nothing else could go wrong today. Peering from around one of the large stone pillars, Quinn's eyes widened as she took in the sheer size of the cathedral. Being the fourth largest Christian church in the world, it boasted vast stretches of Gothic Revival architecture, a perfect example of 13th century High Gothic stylization from northern France and currently held the record for the largest rose window and longest Gothic nave in the country.

Quinn had originally been under the impression that her wedding to Noah would be Jewish, that she'd have to sign a ketubah, have Noah give her a ring he owned under a wedding canopy and for him to break the glass at the end, but apparently not. According to Emily Puckerman, although she'd been Roman Catholic whilst her late husband Thomas had been Jewish when they'd first met, they'd joined the Episcopal Church when they'd started a family, a very similar affair to the parent's of the cathedral's current dean, James August Kawalski. Quinn was glad she wouldn't later be lifted into the air on a chair only to be paraded around a room as if she were some doll that weighed nothing. The idea of now walking down this extremely long isle in front of thousands was challenging enough. All eyes would be on her.

Suddenly, as her father Russell Fabray, offered up his arm for her to take, the organ erupted into song, the sound of Richard Wagner's Bridal Chorus, echoing around the cathedral. This was it. Now was the time. Appearing at the nave entrance, Quinn looked on as all six thousand guests rose from their pews as if on command and turned to look at her, every single one of them with their attention on the blushing bride. Quinn smiled politely at everyone as she descended the nave, nodded courteously to all those who caught her eye but even as she addressed everyone with a silent thank you for attending the wedding, she eyed them all in masked suspicion. Thanks to Lauren, her already fretting nerves had been thrown into overdrive, paranoia clouding her mind. There was someone in here, hidden amongst the wedding hats, ready to strike.

As they eventually reached the alter, after a long walk from the cathedral's great west doors, Quinn's father pecked on her the cheek before retreating and watching his daughter come to stand alongside her fiancé in front of the dean. Stealing a quick glance at her future husband, Quinn took note of Noah. He looked very handsome, very dapper in a designer wedding tuxedo that flattered his masculine physique well. The jacket, the waistcoat, the tie, even the boutonniere were all coordinated to the finest detail, yet it was the expression on his face that seemed to undo it all, for Noah looked broken. From just one look in his hazel eyes, one could tell the man was an emotional wreck, deeply melancholic with a shredded heart that struggled to beat and a soul that he'd soon sell to Quinn with a ring. To him, his life now over.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and these witnesses, to join Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray in matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly," began the dean. "Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace." Quinn held her breath and was just about to blow a sigh of relief when-

"I object to this wedding!" Cried out a familiar but stern voice from the front of the nave, a chorus of gasps echoing through the cathedral as everyone turned to face the last person the bride would ever have thought would interrupt her wedding, Anita. The loyal maid of the Puckerman's, who had served them well over many years and who had helped raised their children, was shuffling out of a nearby pew, her eyes narrowed and sharp. Stood rooted in shock, Quinn looked on as the woman marched her way up the aisle, everyone too stunned to stop her. "Dean, this woman is not fit to marry this man."

"Anita! What are you doing?!" Hissed Quinn menacingly as the maid came to a halt before her and Noah, the dean looking just as perplexed as everyone else. This could not be happening. Quinn just couldn't believe the betrayal. Around two weeks ago, Anita had sat across from her in Noah's kitchen and had said that she supported her upcoming marriage to Noah, that she believed in marriage, that despite Noah's attitude towards it, it was the right thing to do, yet here she was ruining it. Quinn wouldn't let it happen. "Get back to your seat right now, you're interrupting our wedding!"

"No!" Retorted Anita as she turned full force on the blonde bride, her fists clenching dangerously. Noah, who had kept quiet through this whole thing, was looking between Quinn and Anita in utter confusion. His face had since lost its somber tone in favor of a furrowed frown, trying to make sense of what the hell was going on. "I am not prepared to sit on and watch as you marry this man, and if I do, I will regret it for the rest of my life, because you, Quinn Fabray, have been lying to everyone! You've been lying to Noah, you've been lying to me and you've been lying to every other single person who believes in this marriage!"

"Excuse me miss, but you are being highly inappropriate and disruptive to the service at this time. If you wish to let your objections be known then they should be conducted in private, not in public," informed the dean as Noah, Quinn and Anita all turned to face him at once. "I apologize, but it is the traditional procedure that has to be undergone. We must consider the feelings of the couple and everyone else around, I hope you understand. So if you wish to pursue your objections, I insist you follow me so that we may settle this account in a more-"

"I hear what you're saying dean and I apologize for the nature I'm doing this in, but after what I've learned, I am not going to take into account the feelings of this conniving woman. She deserves what's coming to her, she deserves this!" Spat Anita, the dean not even attempting to stop her, as her anger boiled. Her voice was loud and frosty, it carried around the cathedral easily and as Anita turned to the congregation, she commanded their attention. "What I have to say right now is important enough for everyone in this church to hear! All of you have a right to know what a deceitful liar our Noah is marrying!"

"How dare you!" Thundered Quinn as she violently struck Anita across the face, causing the maid to cry out and stumble back, eventually losing her footing and tumbling down the stairs to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Further gasps echoed around the cathedral but this did not deter Quinn for one second. She looked down at the elderly woman and seethed. "Listen here, Anita! You're fired, you're finished, you'll never work for us again! This little charade has cost you dearly! You've made a spectacle out of yourself and ruined my wedding and for that, you are relieved of your duties! Get out!"

"Quinn! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Exclaimed Noah in outrage, eying his flustered bride with a mixture of anger and disbelief as everyone in the cathedral looked on appalled. The dean was recovering from his spluttered shock, the women in the pews had their covered their mouths with gloved hands and the men were shaking their heads disapprovingly. Rushing to Anita's side without a second thought, Noah offered the maid his help, which she gladly accepted. However, as he helped her back onto her feat, he couldn't help but notice her wince in pain as she attempted to regain her footing.

"Noah, what are you doing? Get back up here and leave her alone. She's security's problem now," whispered Quinn harshly as she pointed for Noah to stand exactly where he'd been, but the problem was, he wasn't budging. He stayed fixed to his maid like a human support, as if Anita were going to keel over and fall to the ground again if he wasn't there by her side. For Anita, it was the only good thing that had come out from Quinn's vicious attack. Noah no longer had his hateful eyes on her, but had an arm around her, protecting her from his bride. "I apologize for the interruption dean, it won't happen again."

"Oh yes it will. This wedding is as good as over, and whilst I'm still here, you are not marrying this man!" Retorted Anita as she turned to look at Noah. She was ashamed of herself for having contributed to all this and could only hope she'd be forgiven as the man glanced down at her. "Oh Noah, I am so sorry for the way I have behaved these past few months. I'm sorry I betrayed you, I'm sorry for the way I treated Kurt, and I'm sorry for having helped the woman tear the boy I know you love away from you. I... I thought I was doing the right thing; I really did, but... I was tricked. You have to believe me, Noah."

"Oh my God, are you still here?!" Boomed Quinn as she bore down on Anita with agitation. Why wasn't any one doing anything? No one had attempted to help out the situation. All they were doing was sitting there in their pews, whispering and offering her nothing but looks of contempt. Even her own family were eying her coldly, abandoning her to fight for herself as she battled this mere maid. "Will someone please get rid of this disgusting piece of infestation?! I know my wedding has already been tarnished with putrid working class poison but even this must have a limit!"

"Shut up, Quinn! Don't you dare talk to her like that!"

"Noah, she's ruining everything! I don't even know why you invited her, she's merely the maid!"

"No, she's not! She's cared for me since I was three! She's been like a second mom to me and-"

"I couldn't care less what she is to you Noah, she's fired! She has nothing to do with us anymore!"

"And yet without me, you wouldn't be here would you! If I hadn't accepted to be your spy, you wouldn't be standing right where you are!" Shouted Anita. "Don't act as if I was nothing more than someone who aired your rooms, hoovered the carpets and dusted your furniture until every single thing in that apartment sparkled, because you know very well I was. You told me to always have my phone at the ready should Noah ever be unfaithful and to scare off the 'sluts' so that they never returned. You even went as far as to ask me to hide little cameras in his study and his bedroom, in his bathroom and in his-"

"For God's sake, it won't stop talking will it?!" Exclaimed Quinn, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly as she let out a loud of sigh of exasperation. Except now, as she looked at Noah, his face had hardened into furious scowl. Cameras in his room? Controlling Anita like a puppet to speak to Kurt like she had done! He was positively livid. "Listen you old hag, you're just jealous that you're so much older than me but yet you're still not married! Perhaps no man will even bother looking your way and you'll be stuck scrubbing floors till your spine crumbles, your fingers bleed and you breathe your very last breath!"

"Shut the hell up, woman! Just shut up!" Roared Noah, detaching himself from Anita's side before storming his way over to his fiancée. He'd had enough of Quinn. He'd been emasculated by her for too long and as his voice carried itself like a sonic tsunami, it pleased him that the blonde's face winced in discomfort. However, his anger could not compete with the following silence that descended over the cathedral. No one uttered or even dared make a sound. Whispers had gone silent, not even a single rustle from a program was made. He was taking control now.

"Don't raise your voice to me like that Noah," whispered Quinn harshly, breaking the deafening silence but keeping her voice low as she took a few steps back from Noah. The man had come to stand right in her, breaking into her personal space. It intimidated her greatly. His strength, his height, Noah could snap her like a twig if he wanted, but this only served to enrage her more. She hated feeling helpless and so she turned to Anita, fuming. "Why the hell are you still here?! I've torn down every single possible self esteem wall in that overweight lard ass mess of a train wreck you call a body so get the hell out!"

"I'm here because I care about the integrity and good values of this family, and no matter how many times you try to beat me down with words, I'll always be here for them!" Retaliated Anita. "What you did to Mrs. Puckerman was barbaric. You drugged her tea with Scopolamine and persuaded her to make Noah marry you, making sure she signed a letter of agreement you'd drafted up yourself, before you blew the rest of the drug in her face so she wouldn't remember anything about how she'd got the sudden urge to marry Noah off to you, and why did you do all of this? Simple! Money!"

"What?! You did what to my mom?!" Roared Noah as everyone in the cathedral gasped aloud once again before trying to peer about for Emily Puckerman, but up at the altar, everyone's attention was on Noah, as the man's hazel eyes darkened threateningly into slits. He glared back at Quinn, closing the distance between them before taking a hold of her arms and clenching down hard, his hands like clamps as the blonde whimpered pitifully. "You drugged my mom with The Devil's Breath just so you could get your hands on my fucking bucks?! You could have killed her!"

"Don't listen to that woman, she's delusional! She's- ow Noah, my arm-"

"I told not to fuck with me, Q! I told if you ever hurt my family, I'd hurt you!"

"I didn't do anything to your mom, I swear, I-"

"You tore Kurt away from me, you broke our hearts and crushed us just for my dollar bills! You gold digging bitch!"

"Noah, please will you lay off! Will you... hey! Noah, where are going! Come back here!" Screamed Quinn as with a final shove, Noah let go of the blonde's abused arm. The girl had been desperately trying to free her paling and nearly crushed arm from his death grip, but the current sight of him descending the stairs and storming away down the aisle was even worse. "Noah! If you don't come back here right now, I'll release the photos! I'll go to the press and show them all! You, Kurt and your company will be finished and you'll have nothing but regret for the rest of your miserable life!"

Despite her threats and despite her screams, Noah didn't stop walking up the long nave back up to the great west doors. No words racing out of Quinn's panicking mouth seemed to deter him and in a whimper of distress, the blonde hurtled after him, careful not to trip over her dress as she struggled to keep up with the man's wide strides. Following behind Quinn in the chase was Anita, hobbling slightly as she too struggled to keep up until with a deafening tear of a Vera Wang wedding dress, Quinn tripped over her own gown and was catapulted forwards, landing harshly on the stone floor with a painful thud and smack of skin. Letting out a chorus of painful whimpers, she slowly raised her head to see members of the congregation on both aisles either side of her, not a single one offering to help, but rather settling on killing her slowly with eyes of frost.

"You can expose whatever the hell you like Quinn! You might as well since everything about you and what you've done is now out in the open!" Barked Noah as he stopped and turned around. "I'm calling the cops on your ass and you're going to be behind bars for a very long time! You can save whatever left you have to say for the courts, because I don't give a damn about you! No one here does! No one here pities you, they only hate you and no judge is ever going to view my affair as worse an offense as fraud and extortion! I'm ditching you at the altar for the boy I love and I never want to you see you again!"

At the mention of Kurt, Noah looked around the six thousand heads that made up the congregation and watched as they erupted into a frenzy of indiscreet whispers with many of them eying him and determining whether he was serious. However, judging by his proud stance and unabashed expression, their queries were quickly answered with a single look from hazel eyes. Yes, Noah Puckerman had just outed himself at his own wedding in front of his family, friends, New York high society, and anyone else he couldn't care to think of. If they didn't accept him for it, or accept his love for Kurt Hummel, then that was their problem, not his, and so with the rush of liberty pulsing through his veins, Noah wrenched the ring off his finger and threw it to the stone floor, the jewel echoing with a clang as it rolled to stop right in front of Quinn. He was now free. Free.

"Go to him Noah, go to him and be happy. You deserve happiness," came a soft voice beside him. Turning to see Anita returning his gaze, Noah allowed the woman to stroke his cheek comfortingly just like she had done when he'd been little, his eyes softening as he welcomed her gentle touch. Eventually, as her hand left his skin, Noah gifted her with the smile she knew she'd been wishing to see again for years before turning around and throwing open the cathedral door, disappearing into the sunlight as Anita looked on, watching as her baby Noah became a man.

_That's it Noah. Find your happiness._

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Stepping out of the outfit marquee on unsteady feet, as if bothered by his slender shape that was exposed in the tight fitting clothes he was wearing, Kurt squinted as the hot sun bore down on him unforgivingly. Once Charlotta had made his hair, skin and nails as presentable as she could get them he had made his way over to the neighboring marquee to meet Forde, the outfit director, for the first ensemble he would be wearing. She'd clothed him in a classic sailor outfit but with a French designer twist to it, stylishly unconventional, uncomfortably tight, yet flatteringly daring with the white in the material now acting as a reflector as the sunlight beamed onto it, the dark blue likewise doing its job as it brought out his baby blue swimming eyes, exaggerating them, saturating them until it only now began to highlight how truly troubled they were.

Yet Kurt's eyes didn't seem to be the only indicators to his troubles. Once Forde had finished with him, going to attend to the other male model, he had come across a number of champagne bottles as well as cider, wine coolers and other light alcoholic drinks on a nearby table. Glasses had been set out and all though he knew he shouldn't have even considered it, let alone done it, Kurt had approached the table, opened the nearest cider bottle and began pouring it into a glass. The amounts were not generous. Far from it. In fact, during one refill, his glass had overflowed, staining the tablecloth and wetting his fingers, his loose grip now threatening to send his glass to the floor. He didn't care though, just as long as he saw the sweet liquid before his eyes, tasting it on his tongue and raging a fire down his throat.

Kurt was drunk. His balance was off, his eyes had now a habit of closing half way either giving him a dozed expression wanting sleep or one of seduction wanting sex and he'd burst into giggles of laughter at anything that made him smile. He didn't know what he was doing but he supposed that he'd always had a stupid thought in his head thinking that with each glass of sweet mixed berry cider he consumed, the less he had to think of a wedding. He thought he could choose what he could think and what he didn't want to, all with the help of this magic glass full of magic liquid, but no. He'd been stupid. He hadn't thought anything through and now as he brought a lazy finger to clear up a dribble of cider seeping its way out from the corner of his berry tasting lips, he began to realize how ridiculous he looked. He was nothing but a beautiful mess.

"Kurt! Hey Kurt, over here! Come along now, we don't have that much time!" Shouted the photoshoot director from where the cute sailboat had been harbored. He waved his hands from out of the crew crowd of the shoot and as Kurt made his way over, the boy attempted desperately not to arouse suspicion from either his fellow model or his photographer. "All right, okay, here's what you have to do. Both of you are going to get into the boat and you're going to have to both sail and row into the centre of the lake, all right. Don't go much further than that because otherwise we'll have to ask you to come back a bit."

Peering his head around the director, Kurt took note once again of the pretty sailor boat habored nearby. Various crewmembers were hovering around it, double-checking its safety for any holes that could send both models to the bottom of the lake. Maybe it could be just as well, seeing as Kurt was in desperate need of water. However, the more he thought about being forced into boat too small a size with a model much bigger than him, he squirmed. The upcoming sense of being trapped made him shiver, and as he turned his head, he took note of his fellow model. His name was Theo, quite friendly looking and was similarly dressed in a sailor like outfit except without a shirt. Another sculpted chest, just another set of lean muscle on display. By now, Kurt wasn't so much as impressed with them as he was uninterested.  _Oh Noah..._

"How are you going to be able to communicate with us if we're all the way in the middle of the lake?" Asked Theo, the director explaining that he'd be using a megaphone to let them both know what they were to do. However as instructions were laid down and explanations given, Kurt overted his eyes from everyone. He didn't know what his eyes looked like, whether they were still dopey looking or if they were bloodshot and dead, but letting anyone find out whichever one they were was a massive no-no. "Kurt... um... Kurt? Kurt should I row?"

"What? Oh... I-if you wouldn't... mind... Theo," breathed Kurt lightly as he stumbled lazily through his response. His words were like a caress of pleasure, his voice increasingly charged with sex and as Theo looked back at him with furrowing brows whilst the director performed a double take, Kurt placed a hand over his mouth before moving around them and over to the boat. He hadn't spoken for that long but he knew that he'd spoken too much, and so he did his best to only nod or shake his head for communication as he was helped into the boat, Theo following closely behind him. "Sorry about that... T-theo..."

"It's all right... I guess," answered Theo unsurely, his eye's scanning over Kurt's appearance as the pale boy looked quickly away, begging for the other model to stop trailing his judgmental sight over him as if inspecting him for symptoms of viral plague. This was not what Kurt wanted. He wanted to be seen as beautiful but because of his own flawed logic, come about by sadness; he had decided to null the pain of his rapturous thoughts of Noah in the worst possible way. Now he would pay. "Kurt, are you all right? You look really pale, and kind of drunk... I mean... are you drunk?"

"No, I'm j-just... a little delirious from the... the heat," lied Kurt as the boat was released from its tether, drifting along the water as Theo took up the oars and began to row them across the lake. Kurt really wasn't doing himself any favors by talking. It was just convincing his fellow model that he was indeed intoxicated, but if only Theo knew why. If he knew why, Kurt would surely be forgiven and there would be no need for guilt and regrets. Regrets were stupid, yet so was he. "Don't worry about... about me, I'm fine. I p-pose best when I have the sun on me, it makes me giddy... that's all."

Giving him another look that clearly believed he was lying, Theo went silent, but did not stop stealing glances at Kurt through the corner of his eyes when he thought he wasn't looking. Theo had heard of Kurt. Many other models as well as everyone else in the fashion industry had heard or at least seen one photo of him from a magazine. He always looked his best, posed with an air of sophistication and whenever one would look at his face, it was as if his eyes followed you at whichever angle you looked at, as if Kurt wouldn't let you go, for you had laid yours eyes on him, therefore, you were his. Now however, as Theo lifted and pulled at the oars, his hands getting sore from the friction and his arms and back beginning to ache ever so slightly, he couldn't help feeling that even though Kurt was just holding the tiller, the boy was hurting so much more than he was.

"I think we're almost... there," breathed Theo heavily as they neared the center of the lake. Turning around and eying his surroundings, Kurt took into account how vast and large the lake actually was. Though as he could still make out the photographer taking photos of them from on land, Kurt also took note of others walking, talking and strolling along the pathways, their happy faces the brightest beacons of all, and even as the sun hit the water, causing rippling reflections of its gaze to land on him, not even something as naturally beautiful as that could eclipse those beacons. "Kurt, we're here."

"All right guys, that's perfect! Just stay where you are, don't move the boat and remove the oars from sight! Assume your positions now!" Boomed the director from on land, Kurt wincing as even from this position and distance did the sound of that ghastly megaphone make him want to cover his ears. His posing instructions were to stand up and lean his back against the mast whilst Theo crouched down and did his own thing, yet Kurt didn't want to stand. The alcohol had obliterated his co-ordination, the boat felt unstable on the water and the breeze was beginning to act up. All signs pointed to something bad.

Hoisting himself up on teetering legs, Kurt made to stand but could not find the energy or balance to do it. He looked utterly ridiculous falling back down more than once as he tried over and over again to make it to the mast, but no matter how hard he tried or how hard he willed the alcohol's influence to leave him, he could not make it. That was until Theo offered up his hand in help, guiding Kurt into his position and helping him strike a good balanced footing before striking up his own. In response, Kurt could only thank his fellow model with a glazed smile, a sad smile that seemed to quiver slightly as the first photos were taken as if his lensed lover were taking advantage of him in his state. For the camera was making love to him as he posed drunk, looking pretty, but weary, looking beautiful, but haggard, and looking very much like a smudged image.

He remembered the night he had first met Noah, how the man had been clearly troubled. Due to his father's death, a fear of getting too close to people in case he lost them had isolated him from others, but with the palpable loneliness Noah had felt because of it, his desire to love and be loved had overcome it all. He'd found himself with Kurt, a country creature with words of wisdom and beauty that made the heart break. Kurt had inquired after happiness, had assured Noah that it could only be brought on by one self, no one else. The fate of his mother, the mention of past harassment and his quote had opened Noah's eyes, had helped resuscitate hope for future happiness, except now, there was no one to recount a childhood quote to Kurt. There was no one to offer him comfort, no words of wisdom to help him through his days, to strike up hope, for that person was gone. Gone.

"Kurt! Could you face the camera please! Your face is... Kurt!" Cried out the director as Theo looked over at the boy to find him swaying slightly, his vibrant blue eyes shifting from the lush tress in the distance to his rippling reflection in the water. There Kurt perilously peered over the boat's edge and held his gaze, completely oblivious to the shouts from the director on land. Feeling as if he should do something, Theo made to stand and pull the boy away before he toppled into the water but as soon as Kurt turned to face him, he halted. "Are you listening to me?! Kurt, for fuck's sake, face the camera!"

"Kurt, stop leaning over the edge, you're going to fall in," warned Theo as Kurt brought his eyes away from his before lifting his gaze to the sky once more. The breeze was getting stronger now. It was hitting the sail with more force than it had done earlier but for Kurt, it seemed to only act as a current for two white birds that were now flying above him. They circled each other, as if dancing their courtship in the sun, their chirping melodies convincing all of nature itself of their undying love. They were the lucky ones, only they could join as one but no sooner had Kurt's eyes landed on them, then his feet had begun to ever so slowly lead him towards the back of the boat as he followed the singing birds. It was as if he'd been cast under a spell. His hand was outstretched before him as if he too wanted to be taken and flown away, away from the people he didn't like, away from all this. He wanted what they had. Happiness, for he sought happiness, why couldn't it seek him.

"Kurt, what the hell are you doing?! Get back in your position right now!" Screamed the director but Kurt could not hear him. He just wanted to be left alone with these birds, to imagine that his outstretched fingers were stroking their delicate wings as they fluttered around him. No doubt about now, the wedding bells from the Cathedral of the Unfinished were going to ring, signaling to everyone around that both Noah and Quinn had been pronounced man and wife and that the sealing kiss that would follow would set storm to a shower of petals that would rain down upon them both. "Kurt! Damn it, Kurt! Kurt!"

"Life is... very beautiful," muttered Kurt quietly, retracting his hand for it to fall limply by his side. He had thought to jump in the air and fall, to beg someone to say goodbye to the sunset for him, to finish off his tale, the story of his life so that age would not write them down on the lines on his face, the lines of a naive boy who had come to New York only to have his heart crushed, but in the end, he had not. Now was not his time and helplessness be damned, he was not going to let Quinn win. She had taken away his love but she would never take away his life.

However as he turned around on shuffling feet, his senses now returning to reality, a sudden gush of wind skimmed across the lake. The branches from trees nearby ruffled ruthlessly and as the forceful wind hit the boat with a strength much unsuspected, Kurt closed his eyes and braced himself with all the will he could muster. It wouldn't stop. It kept on coming. It scruffed his hair, it caused him to shiver and as he opened his eyes to a squint, he noticed the boat start to move out of position. The mainsail was flapping wildly in the wind, turning the boat to one side. Kurt didn't know what to do. He was afraid of them being drowned together. He was now afraid to die himself. He looked for Theo, wanting to scream out his name, and eventually saw the other model making his way towards him. He was shouting something, begging Kurt to come away from the edge of the boat but with a sudden forceful gust of wind, the jib changed course and the boom swung over, knocking Theo violently into the water.

Kurt watched in horror as Theo fell overboard, his body struggling and his hands flapping wildly as his mouth gasped for air. It had all happened so quickly and in his frightened and intoxicated state, Kurt began to panic. The strong wind was blowing the boat further away, leaving Theo behind and Kurt didn't know how to stop it. All he could do was look around desperately for rope, something, anything that could save the drowning man in the lake, for the man was screaming, screaming for help, for his life and tears could only prick at Kurt's eyes as he continued looking for the rope. Finally locating it, he whimpered as he picked it up and brought it to his chest, but only tripped and fell as he stumbled along the boat to the tiller. He reached the stern, but heard nothing. Theo's screams had ceased, nothing was there. Looking around hysterically, Kurt saw nothing...

The wind died down, the water calmed down and all was left of where Theo had been were a couple of bubbles left behind. Kurt couldn't take it anymore. Letting out a cry of distress, he ran off the edge of the boat and into the water, plunging into it before quickly resurfacing, looking around helplessly as his body struggled to keep afloat. He screamed out Theo's name, over and over again as his body shivered from the cold. His tears were cascading down his cheeks as he wailed out the man's name through despair, yet as he himself began to struggle not to drown whilst his heart began to anchor him down, as if pulling him further and further into the water's depths, with a loud disruption on the water's surface, appeared Theo, right in front of Kurt. With a loud cry, Kurt looked back at the other model but it was too late. He had been too late.

All that was looking back at Kurt now was Theo's face, his dead face, with his hair sticking to his forehead as Kurt's eyes teared up and welled in the water. He tried to take hold of the model's face, to cradle it, to comfort the man who had lost his life, but as his fingers neared, he retracted them. He waved over to the crew on land for help, screaming out to them until he brought his sobbing sight back to Theo's lifeless, floating, horizontal body, Kurt by his side, as if sitting by the man's death bed, crying. Looking high into the sky, Kurt noticed as the white birds from before began to circle above him again. There they hovered over the water, eyeing him before rising into the sky, their dancing figures ascending into the heavens.  _Yes, life is very beautiful,_  thought Kurt as he let out his final breath and fainted, his mind losing consciousness as his body sank into the lake's depth filled chasm.

_Very beautiful..._


	21. Happy Birthday

Noah leaned back against the passenger car seat as he huffed a sigh of frustration, his body pumped and full of energy but restrained within a vehicle moving excessively slowly to be considered comfortable. Once had he escaped the cathedral through its great brass doors, abandoning Quinn and leaving everyone behind for someone worth more than any of them, Noah had flown down the steps and entered straight into the car that had been there waiting for him. Of course said car had been his wedding car, a white Rolls Royce Phantom decorated with white ribbon and a bouquet at the front of the hood, a luxurious beauty of a car that he been meaning to depart in with Quinn, but now plans had changed and strict instructions fired at his completely bewildered chauffeur, Derrick, like a frenzied army lieutenant to step on it, had been ordered.

However, as the car had peeled off the street, paparazzi and journalists alike had gone crazy. Only one thing could be interpreted by Noah's early leave; a ditching, and this meant a tabloid field day for them all. No doubt after this, everything that had gone down in the cathedral was going to be the talk of the town for many, many weeks, maybe even months depending on what steps his mother would take to minimize the press. For this whole ordeal was surely going to be an embarrassing blow to the company. There was no escaping that. However, Noah knew that it was something they could recover from easily. Quinn had been taken down and the photos Anita had taken had no doubt been deleted, but thinking of Anita, how had she known all about this at the very last minute? Had she found it out herself? Or had someone told her?

These were questions that would be answered later because right now, Noah was a mission to return to Kurt. He orders had been to drive to Kurt's apartment but because Noah had spent the last few minutes trying to contact the boy there as well as on his mobile without success, he began to have doubts, though it was of no matter. He'd wait as long as it would take until his boy came home to find himself once again in Noah's arms. They'd be reunited, their hearts would mend on first contact and everything would be well, except for one thing. Joshua. Noah had not forgotten the man from the Balencia Ball, or from his photograph with Kurt in LOVE magazine. He was the competition, touching his Kurt, kissing him, it enraged Noah. Quinn was indeed now out of way, but this obvious rebound so called 'new beau' was next in line for defeat.

"Oh my God!" Exclaimed Noah, leaning forward in his seat and attempting to catch a glimpse of what was going on ahead through the windshield. They were approaching Kurt's residence along the Central Park west road with the park to the East and the blocks to the west of their current position, but due to an incident up ahead, traffic had piled up, rendering their speed to that of a tortoise. It was enough to drive Noah mad, for this thwarting traffic jam could not have come at the worst time. "Derrick, can you see what the hell is going on up there. Why aren't we moving? I have to be Kurt's now!"

"I'm sorry Master Puckerman, but I can't see any better than you can. Nothing seems to be moving."

"Well then could we go another way? I don't know; take one of these streets coming up here perhaps?"

"I won't be able to until we reach a turning for one, so until then we'll have to wait."

"Screw that, I'm not sticking out this hold up."

"Master Puckerman, where are you going?" Stumbled Derrick as without a minute left to spare, Noah exited the car, shutting the passenger door firmly behind him as he made his way over to the sidewalk. He weaved his way through the throngs of honking cars, taxis and vans, their drivers shouting out wildly as he himself continued looking up ahead for what was going on down the road. Nope. Even from here, he couldn't see anything close to what resembled an accident of any kind. There were no flashing lights from police cars, fire engines, ambulances, nothing, except for the air thick with road raged drivers.

Considering this was the city and considering this was New York City at that, even minor traffic jams soon escalated into ones of such magnitude that it would take hours to die down. This was one of the primary reasons why road works were so detested by everyone. Anything that disrupted a driver's path within this city and they would have had made one furious enemy. This was why Noah had attempted and succeeded in reaching the Central Park west side walk as quickly as possible. It hadn't helped that he may have drawn attention to himself that bit more by not changing out of wedding tuxedo from. He'd noticed people looking but in all frankness, he didn't care. He hadn't had time to do anything apart from throw himself in a car only to later pelt out of it at full speed. He had no time to lose.

Breaking out into a steady job, Noah journeyed his way down the street, counting down each block until he would reach the one that would lead him to Kurt. It was a harder however, what with the occasional van blocking certain road signs and the tedious distractions of the drivers, to spot the one he wanted, but he managed to maintain his speed as he dodged the occasional wide eyed pedestrian and staring passersby. By the time Noah had reached the street he'd been looking for, his breaths were labored and his feet were aching like hell. The shoes he was wearing weren't running shoes at all and all the jogging couldn't have done them any good, but he was where he needed to be. All he had to do now was cross the road to the other side.  _Why didn't I cross to that side in the first place_ , thought Noah, mentally kicking himself as he called Kurt's cell.

"Come on Kurt, pick up, pick up, pickup..." muttered Noah as he paced impatiently around in circles, his eyes routinely following his feet as well as the ground as the ringing on the line continued its long streak of incessant ringing. He was currently in between the Beresford Apartments and the Natural History Museum, about a three minutes walk from Kurt's place, but he needed to hear the boy's voice. He hadn't heard it in more than two weeks and he wandered if it had changed, whether it had sombered like his or matured after heartbreak 2.0. "Oh come on baby, pick up... please."

"Hi! Kurt's answering machine is broken. This is his refrigerator. Please speak very slowly, and I'll stick your message to myself with one of these magnets," laughed Kurt's answering machine message, as Noah frowned before he stopped pacing and smiled. Oh, it was so good to hear Kurt again. That lovely voice, so soft and spunky that had the man's insides fluttering as he chuckled at the amusing message. Kurt sounded fine, he was okay, yet that was what erased Noah's grin. If this message reflected how Kurt was at the meant, was the boy doing fine without him?  _Please... no..._

"Hey Kurt... it's me," began Noah. "Look don't be alarmed. Quinn doesn't know I'm ringing you, and she's never going to know, because I'm not marrying her anymore. It's off, the wedding, the engagement, everything. I left the cathedral early and I'm now on your street because I want to you see you, Kurt. I have to talk you. I can't end another day without telling you I love you and how much I fucking miss you and how badly I want you back in my life. I want you with me again in my arms next to me and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. You're mine baby, you'll always be mine. Call me."

Ending the message before pocketing his phone, Noah looked around as he decided what he should do. He could make his way to Kurt's apartment and wait for him or he could return to his penthouse, change and then return, because his wedding tuxedo in this surprisingly sunny yet windy day was going to roast him up into a sweating mess, and to meet Kurt for the first time in weeks in such a state was a definite no-no. However, before he could finalize on a decision, his attention was led astray by the sounds of an ambulance siren nearby. It seemed to come from inside the park, no doubt on one of its many windy roads, but even though he shouldn't have been bothered by a noise that was New York's signature sound, very much how the city's signature food was the apple, he couldn't help but feel curious.

Deciding to investigate and relying on the sirens of the ambulance to lead him to the presumed accident that may have been the cause of the traffic holdup, Noah walked down the street, passed the Natural History museum and entered the park. There he followed the pathway until it lead to what he make out was The Lake further up ahead. People around had also been captured by the ambulance sirens with most, if not all of them, wondering in the same direction as he was. They were all talking, some whispering but with the content of their conversations all-revolving around the same thing, that someone had fallen into the lake and drowned. Of course such a thing to hear was horrible, but a rowing boat accident couldn't be attracting this much attention now could it? New Yorkers were one of the most jaded people around.

However, as he reached the western pathway right on the edge of the lake, he began to realize that this was no normal boating accident. From his stand point, towards the south of the lake where the Cherry Hill Fountain was located, stood various white marquees, and amongst them were reflectors, lighting equipment, outdoor vanity mirrors and various crewmembers with the makeup artists and their fanny packs flitting around members of the crew. Clearly, a photoshoot had been going on here, but what really had been going on here? What had happened? Who had drowned, and why was a sudden pang of fear threatening Noah's nerves at knifepoint? He knew he wasn't helping himself by thinking it. He was just being paranoid and it was making him fret without cause, but he couldn't help it. What if it was Kurt? What if his boy had drowned?

Shaking his head and mentally forcing himself to reject such a heart wrenching idea, Noah continued to follow the path along the lake's side, his eyes continually focused on the South end. A large crowd had formed behind stretches of yellow police tape, sealing off the premises and the photoshoot equipment was being quickly and efficiently packed up and removed, lessening the clutter within the sealed area. However, as Noah took note of various police officers at the tape fence, warning many onlookers not to come any closer of they would be arrested for defying orders, his hazel eyes caught sight of an attractive sailboat. It was painted in blue and white stripes, slightly larger than the park's rowing boats, but definitely more eye-catching, though as he squinted his eyes in hopes of catching who was sailing it, he froze.

Joshua Maxum, Kurt's current boyfriend, was sailing the boat closer and closer to the edge of the lake where multiple policemen were waiting for him, their arms outstretched and their hands wide as they prepared to dock the boat. However, the displeasing site of seeing Joshua again was overshadowed with a greater pang of fear, the knife pressing harder now into his nerves. Kurt must have been modeling if he'd invited his boyfriend to come over and watch from the sidelines. It was only reason that occurred to Noah in that meant and as it did, he picked up his pace. The faster he ran, the weaker his legs seemed to become until he could no longer feel anything, until numbness had overtaken them. He was dodging people left right and center, not caring if he skimmed their shoulders or sent them flying into the lake themselves. He needed to know what was going on.

"Stand back! I repeat get back! Do not come any closer!" Boomed a police officer, a large red microphone in his hand as his powerful authoritative voice managed to intimidate the bustling on lookers, causing them to retreat slightly as Noah reached the back of the large of crowd. From here, he couldn't see anything. People were struggling to catch a glimpse of the docking sailboat as it came ever nearer to the embankment and not allowing any way for Noah to maneuver himself into a good vantage point. He'd have to move elsewhere. "Step away from the water's edge! I repeat, move away!"

Rushing back until he reached the Cherry Hill fountain, Noah urgently scanned the area. The majority of the circular stone patio towards where the sailboat was located was crowded with people and so attempting to that way would be a bad idea. However, going around the sides was an idea. Setting off again, Noah followed the path towards the Bow Bridge but changed direction before cutting across the lawn and through the trees until he found himself once again on the pathway on the edge of the lake. The boat was right up ahead and as he jogged forward, he stumbled to a stop as his heart balanced itself on a perilous precipice. The sailboat had docked, Joshua was sopping wet through and as the policemen held the boat fast to the edge before entering the boat themselves, a body was lifted out from its decks. Noah's heart plummeted.

"Sorry son, I can't let you go beyond this point," warned a police officer as Noah made to approach the scene on deadened legs, his mouth gaping as his eyes welled like springs of grief. The lifeless looking body that had just been settled on a stretcher thankfully wasn't Kurt. It was another male model, a very pale looking one with a sickly bluish tint to the skin as if the man's life had been sucked out by the cold water. It was obvious even from where Noah was standing that the man had drowned, though as the police prepared to lift someone else out of the boat, Noah could only look on with torturous anticipation.

"Oh my... God..." muttered Noah, watching on in horror as his fears pushed his heart of its cliff only to land mutilated on sharp shard like rocks below. Slowly being lifted out of the boat was none other than Kurt. Although Noah couldn't see his face, he knew that the dead looking boy in the policeman's arms was his model, his baby. His body was also drenched; his wet clothes sticking to his flesh like a choke like restraint and with a mental crack, Noah couldn't take it anymore. He dislodged the cop's hands from his chest holding him back and ran to the boat, Kurt's name screaming from his pounding chest. "KURT!"

Barging like a human battering ram through the group of bewildered policemen, Noah reached Kurt as the officer holding him stepped out of the boat and onto the land. It was even worse up close but somehow better. Kurt's head was unsupported and allowed to flop back whilst his hands and feet, like those belonging to a small child's seemed to flop as if their puppet strings had been harshly snipped and allowed to loll towards the ground, helpless. Without thinking what he was doing, Noah pulled Kurt out of the baffled officer's hands and carried him onto the lawn, crouching down on his knees as he lay Kurt in his lap, the boy's head now held in his hand. However, the little shakes of Kurt's body, the minor tremors that vibrated through him were not of the freezing cold boy's making, but of Noah's, his strong arms now weak as they shook with great sorrow.

This couldn't be happening. Noah could not fully fathom it. He'd just been set free from Quinn's maleficent grasp to go and love whom his heart belonged to, but to now find his love in his arms again in a state that only seemed to scream death, was enough to tear a revolver from any of the approaching policemen and shoot himself dead upon Kurt. His tears were cascading down his cheeks only to land amongst the lake's droplets already on Kurt's face and also on his innocent sailor suit rendering the boy more like a child who'd got too close the water. His voice was letting out a string of blubbering whimpers, his fingers were wiping away the stray hairs sticking to Kurt's forehead and as he lifted the boy's head with all the power he had, Noah kissed Kurt's frozen lips before bringing him into his chest and balling into his hair. Kurt's life was over. Now, so was Noah's.

"Sir, come away from the boy," ordered the same policeman who had earlier stopped Noah from approaching the scene. Raising his head, the crying billionaire eyed everyone around him. A circle of policemen were surrounding him, further away, Joshua was watching his intimate interaction with Kurt with both shocked and narrowed eyes and every other member of the public crowding by the tape had gone quiet. Everyone had gone dead quiet. For all was left to hear was the singing of the birds, the rustling of the trees and Noah's tearful shuddering breath. "Unhand the boy now sir, or we will have to use force."

"No! I'm not leaving him! He needs me!"

"Are you a family member? A close relati-"

"We love each other! I love him and he lives me, isn't that enough!"

"Sir, I'm sorry but I'm still going to have to ask you to come away."

"No, you don't understand! I can't part from him again, I... I..." murmured Noah as a movement from his arms brought his attention from the nearing officer to look down and notice something that was in his eyes, a miracle. Kurt's head was shifting, his lips slowly moving somewhat, tiny movements but ever so important, until with a sudden lurch forward, the boy violently coughed again and again, water spilling from his mouth as his eyes winced from internal pain. Noah was there however to nurse him, to rub his head and soothe his stomach as the man's tears of sadness rained down now as those of ecstatic joy.

Opening his eyes a little wider than they had been before, Kurt looked directly up into Noah's hazel orbs and let out a strangled gasp. It was an intake of breath too greater size at such an early time after regaining consciousness that Kurt let out another set of gurgled coughs that eventually died down. Though through it all, Noah noticed how those glass eyes had not for one-second lowered their lids. Their eyes were connected once again, after so much time, blue twin pools as if made from clear mineral water themselves meeting red rimmed hazel eyes, the mint green specs within the chocolate flickering like beacons. It was a look shared only by them and as Kurt made to speak, Noah let out a whimpered choke like cry of relief, his arms crushing Kurt to him and their lips cushioning themselves once again. "Oh my God, Kurt... fuck... I thought I'd lost-"

"Excuse me sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to let go of him. We have to get him to the hospital as quickly as possible," urged a female medic as she quickly crouched down on the other side of Kurt opposite Noah and looked straight into the man's eyes. It was true. Kurt may have coughed himself back into consciousness, but he was barely awake. His body was weak from the strain, freezing as only did Noah now notice that he was shivering violently as if suffering from the sweats and if they didn't get him attention, Kurt's health would hastily deteriorate. "Sir please, I know you and him are close but-"

"I'm carrying him, no one else," interrupted Noah determinedly, wrapping his arms under Kurt's shoulders and knees before rising from the ground and making his way towards the awaiting ambulance up ahead. He ignored the stretcher the medic had by her side, he ignored the looks and whispers he was receiving from all around, he ignored them all as he kept his gaze on Kurt, the crowd parting like the red sea for them both. However, as he handed the boy's limp body over to the team of medics by the ambulence, he was stopped from coming any closer. "What? No, I'm not leaving him like this!"

"I'm sorry sir, but this ambulance is already at full capacity."

"'Full capacity' my ass! I want to be with him! I want to know if he's going to be okay!"

"We're taking him to the Lenox Hill Hospital. You'll be free to see him there."

"I want to see him now! You're not driving him away without me!"

"Sir, you're friend is going to be alright. Now stand back from the vehicle," ordered the medic as the female medic from earlier hopped in, giving Noah a reassuring smile before closing the doors and driving away, the siren once again entering the air. Noah had half a mind to chase after it, but he knew it would be pointless. The hospital wasn't that far away from here and what with all the traffic, he guessed he could reach it before Kurt if he ran, and so he did. Setting off like an Olympic sprinter, Noah pelted from the scene, his heart beating like a bashing drum as he ran and ran and ran. Kurt was hurt, safe, but in desperate need of him and nothing in all this God damn world was going to stop Noah from answering those silent cries like love's instinct only could, a father racing to his screaming child, his baby.

_Don't worry Kurt, I'mma comin'..._

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Opening his tired eyes, Kurt winced as the sunshine pouring in through the blinded window flooded his hospital room as if he were in an overly lit photography studio, hundreds of lit soft boxes facing him with their burning bulbs searing into his weak retinas. However, his eye lids were proving to be more of a problem. They felt like ton weights, as if they were the heaviest and strongest parts of his body, and which ultimately indicated how tired and weak he really was. He had been sleeping for God knows how long in this admittedly very comfortable bed by a hospital's standards and he was only now believing that if he didn't start moving around to prevent his whole body from going dead, as well as taking a shower to rid himself of the stench like smell of lake water, he was going to become a whole less comfortable.

No one was in his room apart from him. He supposed he'd been left alone in peace to sleep everything off, but looking around, Kurt began to wonder if he should call for assistance. After all, he hadn't moved his legs in what now was counting to be at least twenty-four hours and who knew if they would be able to support his weight, let alone carry him into the en suite bathroom and into the shower. However, in the end, he chose against it. Pulling his duvet off of him, Kurt swung his legs over the side of the bed and began patting them, squeezing them and massaging them to regain greater blood flow. It was a good enough warm up exercise to raise himself on both reawakening yet unsteady legs, to enter the bathroom where he shed his oppressive cotton hospital gown and to fell allow his dormant and wooden like body to fall prey to the spray.

However, as the first drop from the showerhead landed on him, Kurt's eyes blew open. Memories about what had happened at the photoshoot were becoming clearer and clearer with every droplet that was landing on his body and he couldn't help letting out a struggled outtake of breath. His sadness had led him to drink, which had led him to act irresponsibly and precariously on a sailboat, leading to the accident and ultimate death of his fellow model, Theo. If Kurt hadn't been intoxicated, he could have found that rope faster and saved a life. In fact, if he hadn't been wasted in the first place, the whole shoot would have ended successfully with a sailboat returning to the lake's edge with both passengers alive, instead of one dead and the other unconscious. Kurt blamed himself. It wasn't murder, but to him, it was close.

What followed the accident remained a blur to him; a blur that was smudged even more without recognition and that would refuse to budge when Kurt attempted to force his mind to tell him. He recalled that his vision had gone dark once Theo had resurfaced and that he'd begun to sink, but who had saved him from drowning himself? Who had rescued both his body and Theo's from being lost out in the lake and brought back on land, but most importantly to Kurt, who had held him in their arms, cradled his head and kissed him when he'd been settled on the warm park lawn? So many questions that had Kurt rubbing the shampoo and conditioner even harder into his hair, scrubbing his body with more force until he reddened into a light shade of copper pink. His body was alive once again, but his mind was taking its sweet ass time.

Shutting off the shower and stepping out of the cubicle, Kurt proceeded to dry himself off with a towel and wipe the condensation off the mirror above the sink. As he looked into his reflection, Kurt was reminded of his thought processes when he'd been in the makeup chair with Charlotta. He remembered how he'd south desperately to be beautiful, not just 'bonnie', but beautiful. Little had he known then that he had been beautiful, with the only unsightly imperfection and ugly blemish riling inside him in the form of his insecurities had been preventing from seeing it, and why all these insecurities? Of inadequacy and helplessness and doubt? Well, that was a question obviously answered with a loss that had been the greatest of intoxicants. Kurt cared not to think about it as he pulled away from the glass. It had claimed him once, it never would again.

Walking out of the bathroom with a towel securely around his waist, Kurt froze in the doorway as sitting in the seat in the armchair next to his bed was his father, Burt, In his hand was a steaming hot cup of coffee and the expression on his face when his eyes came to land on Kurt's was one of overwhelming relief. Kurt was equally happy to see his father as he was both shocked and surprised as Burt put down his coffee and came over to wrap his arms around him, his son returning the hug just as avidly. Kurt supposed he shouldn't have been all that surprised that Burt was here. His jacket had been slung over the armchair but he hadn't recognized it until now. Also, the hospital must have contacted his family, in his case, his father, and knowing his father, he would have threatened the pilot at knife point to break airline speed limits to get to him.

"Dad, how long have you been here?" Asked Kurt as he peeled himself away from his father's embrace to not so much as look the man in the eye but to rather look over Burt's appearance. He could tell that the stress and worry of this whole ordeal had taken its toll on him, from the rings under his eyes showing exhaustion to the crumpled state of his clothes due to possibly a lot of frantic running around or even a restless night in an uncomfortable waiting chair. "I know I've been asleep for the most part of my stay here, but they could have awoken me to let me know you were with me."

"You needed your rest, Kurt. I wanted to see you as soon as I got here but the nurses insisted you got your rest."

"And when was this?"

"Last night. Caught a late flight from Columbus right after I got the call."

"And you've been by my side in that armchair ever since?"

"Never left your side unless it was completely necessary, but I did try and find out what the hell happened," replied Burt. "I didn't find out much except that it was just a 'boating accident'. Frankly I can't believe you were allowed to sail out into that lake without not knowing a single thing about sailing, and for them to now say the magazine won't be billed for the clothes that got ruined in the water, it pisses me off. If anyone should be billed, it should be that reckless bunch of half-wits. They should be billed with their jobs because thanks to them you're now in the hospital."

"Dad, I'm sure they're feeling very ashamed and guilty about the whole thing, and besides, if you must know, it isn't entirely their fault," reasoned Kurt, his father scoffing in disagreement as his son walked over to the bed and sat on it. There he rested his body and watched as Burt sat down in the armchair opposite him, eying him for some poorly constructed excuse to defend the irresponsible actions of the shoot's crew. "Just take comfort in that fact that I'm okay, that I've learned from all this and that I'll be out soon... hopefully. How much longer do I have to be here for?"

"I don't know, but judging by how you are now, not for much longer. We'll just to have see what the nurses say," smiled Burt as he leaned over, placed a hand on Kurt's knee and rubbed it comfortingly. "Apparently, the ambulance got you here just in time before you contracted a serious case of Hyperthermia. I heard that the other model with you... didn't make it, which made me freak out even more, but you were treated well and by the time I arrived you were sleeping soundly, albeit a little paler for my liking but there we go. I'm just glad you're getting better, son."

"Don't worry dad, I am. I'm just a little shaken is all. That and I'm trying to remember everything that happened. I'm having a hard time placing the bits after we were rescued," admitted Kurt. "I mean... I know I was unconscious when I was saved from the water, but when I was carried out of the boat and onto the grass, I found myself in someone's arms. It was a man's, but I don't know who it was. Whether he was the one who saved me, I don't know. My sight was all blurry, but I got the sense that I knew him. I think he was wearing a suit, and he kind of looked like... like-"

"Noah Puckerman?"

"What? H-how-"

"The man was Puckerman, Kurt."

"It... it couldn't have been. He was getting marrie-"

"Kurt, I'm telling you now, the man that carried you out of that boat and onto the grass was Puckerman. I know because when I finally arrived here, the first person I saw standing right outside this room was him and he told me everything," revealed Burt. "He told me how he felt when he first saw you getting carried out of that boat and how he took you out of the cop's arms to carry you himself, but I guess it wasn't really what he said that struck me, it's how he said it. The man's in love with you Kurt, and I don't know if you know that or not, but what he did and what he said proves it... so I punched him."

"What?! Why would you do that?!" Shouted Kurt as he tried to get over what his father had done to Noah as well as juggling at the same time what Noah had been doing in Central Park at the time of the accident. As far as he had hated to know, the man was getting married in some large cathedral at the time. Kurt had been dreading the wedding bells, but now as he came to think of it, no bells had rang out that day. "You just sat there recounting how Noah poured his heart out over what happened and now you say you punched him?! That is not decent post indirect admission of love behavior, dad!"

"I'm sorry, but when I asked him why he was dressed the way he was and he replied that he'd been in the midst of getting married to that same Fabray girl you'd mentioned back in Lima, I lost it," admitted Burt as he shifted slightly in his seat. "I mean, I thought you guys had been together, or had everything planned out to be together. I wanted to know what happened, because the thought that immediately came to mind was that he'd made a string of empty promises to further lead you on only to break your heart later by dumping you in favor of still going ahead with his marriage."

"We did break up dad, but only because we were found out by Quinn before we could go and tell Mrs. Puckerman ourselves," sighed Kurt as he shifted his eyes from his father's face, to the floor, to Burt's face again and then to the window where his gaze stayed trained on the busy city outside. "It broke our hearts because we did love each other dad, but after Quinn threatened Noah with blackmail, we could no longer see each other again. We had to go back to our own separate lives, learn to live without the other, so we did. I went back to modeling and he went back to his... fiancée."

"I know Kurt, he told me everything. I got the sense he didn't want to but I pried it out of him with perhaps the threat of another clocking," chuckled Burt, Kurt rolling his eyes before reluctantly smiling. "The reason why he wasn't at his wedding Kurt was because... was because he walked out of it. Before either he or that Fabray girl could exchange vows or rings, he learned something about her that had him ditching her at the altar, running out of there and trying to find you. That was why he was near the park at the time. He'd meant to go to your apartment but left a message on your cell instead."

"Are you... are you serious? He ditched Quinn at the altar? What did he find out about her for him to have done such a thing?" Asked Kurt incredulously, watching as his father rose from his armchair only to walk on over to the desk opposite to the end of the hospital bed. There he pulled out Kurt's iPhone from the boy's jacket pocket folded neatly on top that Kurt hadn't noticed had been there until now, along with his other possessions that had been at the shoot yesterday. Handing over the iPhone to him, Burt watched as Kurt opened up his voice mail and put it on loudspeaker, his eyes wide and fingers shaking.

"Hey Kurt... it's me," began the message, Kurt looking at his father speechlessly as Burt went back down to sit in his armchair, his body leaning forwards as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Look don't be alarmed. Quinn doesn't know I'm ringing you, and she's never going to know, because I'm not marrying her anymore. It's off, the wedding, the engagement, everything. I left the cathedral early and I'm now on your street because I want to you see you, Kurt. I have to talk you. I can't end another day without telling you I love you and how much I fucking miss you and how badly I want you back in my life. I want you with me again in my arms next to me and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. You're mine baby, you'll always be mine. Call me." There the message ended, but it seemed as though Noah's voice hadn't died away, not in the slightest.

What Noah had said was exactly what Kurt had needed to hear before he'd stumbled out of Forde's wardrobe marquee as Britney Spears had done back at the 2007 MTV Video Music Awards. The man was no longer with Quinn and was therefore free to be with him. However, whether Noah had made that clear in the cathedral as he'd left, Kurt didn't know. If he had done, Kurt was petrified of what reaction he must have got, how the congregation must have looked at him and what they had said, but if Noah hadn't, then their secret was still very much a secret. Yet, if Burt was telling the truth and it had been Noah who had allegedly held him on that lawn and kissed him in front hundreds of onlookers, then their cover was again blown. In that moment, Kurt's nerves acted up. His affair with Noah had been let known, and it had shocked a nation.

"You know son, as long as I was here when Puckerman was, that man was plastered to the side of your bed as if he were super glued there," chuckled Burt, shaking his head fondly as Kurt stared fixedly down at his iPhone. He was debating calling Noah like he'd asked, to tell him he was awake and well but in the end, he decided against it. "He sat right in the armchair I'm sitting in now and held your hand in his. We both knew you would be okay and according to the nurses, you were in the clear if you continued to recover, but he wanted to stay with you Kurt, dirty and stained wedding suit and all."

"Where is he now?"

"I sent him home. He put up a fight but a weak one, since he was properly drained."

"How long ago was this?"

"About an hour ago. He'd slept by your side for some time and he'd only ever open his eyes to look at you."

"Oh... well, thanks dad. I wouldn't have wanted him to lose anymore sleep because of me. I know Noah likes his sleep like most men," smiled Kurt as Burt returned the grin before nodding his head in affirmation. God knows Burt was one of those men. "Um... this may be an inappropriate question to ask given what's happened but... what do you think of Noah, dad? You know I would have wanted you two to meet some other way in a scenario that didn't have me in hospital and you punching Noah in the face, but as a person and for someone who loves me, what do you think of him?"

"Well, at first when you and Mercedes talked about him back in Lima, I had him pegged for someone who had deceived you full of stories of so called loneliness and misunderstanding to get you into bed," replied Burt. "However, after everything you said back there and after everything I've seen for myself in a scenario I too would have preferred not to have happened, I can safely say that that Puckerman boy isn't half bad. He's a good kid and I knew from the first single look I saw him give you that he's not going to let anything bad happen to you again. You're stuck with him now son, because he's not going anywhere."

"So you don't mind if I date him? I mean, I'm not looking to restart things with him quite yet, or even at all. I don't know if his family and friends are going to approve of me with him, but if they do and once all this drama has simmered down, will you allow me to see Noah?" Asked Kurt nervously as Burt grinned and nodded. "Thanks, dad. I only asked because I kind of wanted to make up for how you found out about Blaine and I when we were dating back in high school, and even though this whole affair with an engaged man was worse, I wanted to think of you and to start this relationship off on the right foot... if it happens that is."

"Oh it will happen Kurt, there's no denying that. Maybe not right away, I mean you may find after this that you just want to be alone for a while, but you'll be hard pressed to stay single for long with a certain Puckerman at your back, and if I'm led to believe that he really does have a knack for barging through strong front doors to get to you, then he's going to be that much more of a challenge to keep away from," laughed Burt. "I really have no worries that he's going to keep you safe, but I'd suggest not telling him that you've woken up yet. He'll be speeding over here faster than you can say 'go!'.

"Won't he be angry if he finds out I've been discharged without him knowing?"

"He will, but you'll be back home in Lima with me when he does."

"I will? Why can't I stay on my place here in New York?"

"The Big Apple is a roller coaster ride for you Kurt and although it may be fun, sometimes you just need a break before you puke."

"That's the reason? You just want be home again because you miss me... which I guess is good enough a reason," smirked Kurt as he threw his father a lightly accusing glance but only burst out into a fit of giggles as he did. He wouldn't mind returning to Lima if he had the sense Burt really wanted him there. It was the sense of being wanted that drew him in more that anything else. "All right, as soon as I'm discharged, you can take me home, but don't be surprised if Noah finds out where I am, flies over and barges through the door, because he's done that once before, he easily can do it again."

"Fair enough, I'm always up for a challenge, but one quick question before we call for the nurse, Kurt. You've... been in love with Noah before haven't you? Before you met him and before you came here to the city, you've had a thing for him... right?" Asked Burt as Kurt tentatively nodded. "That's all I needed to know. Explains everything, your attitude, your behavior and how you were with him, it all makes sense now. You strutted out on that catwalk for him, didn't you? You wanted him to meet you at that after party. You may not have known it, but subconsciously you wanted his attention... or am I totally wrong?"

"No... I don't think you are, and if you are, then you're not far from it," answered Kurt, surprised that Burt could have thought up such a hypothesis, and one that made a lot of sense. "That night, I was nervous as hell but it was the first time I'd felt... beautiful, and I was proud of it. I wanted to share that feeling with everyone around me, whilst at the same time not drawing too much attention, but yes, I suppose the person I most wanted to be desired by was Noah, and even then I just wanted him to think I was beautiful. That's all I asked for, and if I got that, then I would have gone home happy."

"Well son, you're coming back home with me because you need some good old country air back in your lungs before you can properly breathe. I'm afraid to open this window here less the sulphur fumes of this city come wafting in to knock you unconscious again," chuckled Burt, Kurt letting out a laugh that felt so good, as if it shook off the final shackles of the accident's lingering oppression. "We're going to get your life back on track so that by the time you do return here to New York, you're going to make one hell of a comeback. Believe me Kurt; this city's not going to know what's hit them."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

One week later and Noah stepped warily out of the Mercedes Benz before being greeted with the flashing lights and the enthusiastic cries of the paparazzi. He was here at the Radio City Music Hall theatre with his family and friends to celebrate his twenty-first birthday and a large show was to be put on in celebration of the festivities. He'd known for some time that something big was going to happen, but it hadn't been until now that he'd been let in on what really had been organized by his mother, and it wasn't as if he was ungrateful for all the time and effort that had gone into it all, it's just that he would have much preferred to celebrate his transition from teenager to adult in a less pompous manner fit for a president's son, like staying in his penthouse, tucked up warmly on his couch with Kurt watching a great movie… if he even had Kurt.

Once he'd been instructed by Burt Hummel to return home from the hospital with the excuse that he'd begun to drool on Kurt's lap during his sleep as well as the fact that he could not keep on going around the place wearing a ruined wedding suit, Noah had done what he'd been told. However, the next day, when he'd returned to the hospital with a bouquet of flowers and a get well card, he'd been shocked to learn that Kurt had since awoken, but not only that, he'd been discharged, all without Noah knowing. The man had been furious. He'd demanded the nurses where Kurt was, they hadn't answered. He'd raced to Kurt's city apartment, no one had answered and finally in a desperate attempt to reach his baby model, he'd rung Kurt's cell. Fittingly, the call had gone to voice mail. No one had answered.

Noah had been a wreck. He hadn't known what had happened to Kurt, where he was, or who he was with, until it suddenly occurred to him. Kurt was back in Ohio. It was so obvious. He knew Burt was protective of his only son and would take any excuse to bring him back home with him for a week or two, and at this, Noah had subsequently thought of ringing Kurt at his Lima home, but in the end, he hadn't. There was a reason why Burt hadn't informed him of Kurt's whereabouts. His son needed time off, to make sense of life again before returning to swing on the vines of the concrete jungle, and Burt hoped that Noah would get the message. Although, for Noah, though it was tempting to fly over to Kurt and see him, he'd promised to stop barging through his doors. That and fearing the mighty Burt Hummel himself, for that man could really pack a punch.

As for Noah's own family, it wasn't as if the Puckerman's weren't suffering with their own drama related problems. Quinn had since been arrested and processed for her crimes against them, with a pre-trial conference having just ended two days ago. The press had just about gone crazy over the whole thing and it had driven Noah and his mother completely up the wall, but thankfully due to their own personal team of well experienced publicists, news about the wedding had been significantly minimized with the use of threats of suing any publication that dared spread rumors and lies about what happened, keeping many magazines at bay. Managing news about themselves when things got rough wasn't anything new for the Puckermans, but this whole ordeal just felt closer to home, and the more personal it got, the more ruthless the family fought back.

Tonight however, was a night of celebration, not of business, trials and the press. Everyone was to have fun tonight. Noah's friends and their dates were chatting excitedly of the show's program as they posed for the photographers before entering the theatre, his family too seemed to forget about their personal woes in favor of putting on a brave face, and replacing photos of the ditched wedding with the birthday extravaganza, which everyone hoped would end successfully. Noah himself was again grateful that the topic of conversation had since changed to the night's guest and performance list. A number of affluent faces from Hollywood glamour, Washington power and New York money had paid from $1000 to $10,000 to attend the evening and Noah was flattered, but he was back to where he'd started, a prisoner in his own fame.

Entering the theatre after having been photographed and ignoring the pleas from many to approach for an interview, Noah walked with his entourage into the Grand Foyer. He greeted politely, shook hands with many and pretended to care what they had to say, many wishing him a happy birthday but also condoling him about what had happened with Quinn. In the end, such interaction had only helped him speed his way up the stairs and towards his seat on the first balcony in a puff of smoke. He'd mentally begged the celebrations to start, not bothering to check the program for what it had in store, because the earlier it began, the faster he'd be able to lose himself in it. However, in the end, as everyone finally took to their seats and his mother came to sit beside him, he relented to check out the set list out of curiosity.

"Ma," began Noah, as he took in the long list of entertainers that had been lined up, all of them personal favorites of his including Pantera, Nine Inch Nails, Type O Negative, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Outkast and Nirvana to recitals of the works of Mozart, John Coltrane, Miles Davies and Herbie Handcock. Amongst the musicians however, were also poetry readings read by acclaimed actors as Daniel Day-Lewis, Jessica Chestain, Hugh Jackman, Jennifer Lawrence, Christolph Waltz and Anne Hathaway, but towards the end of the program, the finale was labelled '?' "Ma, what is the finale?"

"It's a surprise Noah, but I suppose I ought to tell you what I know, otherwise you're going to sit there shuffling in your seat wondering what it is for the whole show," smiled Emily, glancing over at Noah's program. "Now I didn't personally organize the finale. It was the only act I didn't arrange and oversee and even when I wanted to find out what it was myself to grant final approval, I wasn't told. It's a secret to everyone. I've heard it could be a firework display to even a performance from an old school friend of yours who's apparently hit it big on the West End in London."

"Were they talking about Hunter Clarington?" Inquired Noah, looking at his mother as she shrugged unsurely. Noah knew Hunter from high school, but the show choir fanatic had always been a victim of 'Puck' and his rule of dweeb extermination than a 'bro' as such. "Why would he be performing for me? I mean, don't get me wrong he was good at theatre and all, but we were never friends. I didn't hang out with him at school; in fact, I was a bit of a jerk to him. I used to pretty much tease him all the time for being too 'dwarf' sized to pull off any role in those fruity musicals he loved so much."

"Speaking of fruity, I hear you're half sugared yourself," smirked Emily. "Even though I choose not to remember that day for many, many reasons, I will always remember that little declaration of love you gave before you left the cathedral. I have to say that I would have preferred if you'd come to out to me first and told me about the boy you love before anyone else, but maybe it was just as well. It takes guts Noah, to stand as proudly and defiantly as you did and announce such a thing in front of six thousand people, and never have I ever been more convinced that there is a lot of your father in you."

"Really? Does that mean you don't have a problem with me being... you know," Asked Noah nervously, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his mother turned her gaze from the stage to him. Perhaps the nature of this private conversation wasn't best suited to be had in a theatre packed full with six thousand people, but the topic had come about and there was no postponing it. In some strange way, the acceptance of his mother was very important to Noah. Even though she'd been rather distant during his childhood, she was his only parent left. She mattered. "You don't mind that I'm... bi?"

"No Noah, of course I don't mind it. There's nothing to mind about, it is who you are, though I do have to say I am surprised, as I'm sure many others are," replied Emily as she gestured with her hand out to indicate to the huge auditorium. "I'm sure your father would have been a little taken aback as well if he were still here with us today, but I can't say for sure what he would have thought. Hopefully, he wouldn't have minded, and I don't think he would have believed you'd be any better or worse a CEO if you were bisexual. If he did, he would have been an idiot, and I did not marry an idiot."

"What about the company?" Inquired Noah fearfully, his attention completely on his mother. The conglomerate had been ravished by a good selection of light scandals in the past, but what had happened may have been for many, the final clincher. Who knows at what rate their stocks were dropping, who else knew anything about it except his mother. "I mean, you once said that my 'whoring' around was something that got the investors 'nervous', but after what's happened with Quinn, my coming out and Kurt, going by what you've said, they're going to be there having heart attacks on the floor of Wall Street."

"Oh Noah, stop being so melodramatic. We're not ruined and the company is not broke. Nowadays in business, people don't care what your sexuality is just as long as there's money and I'm sure our investors have far greater sense in them than to leave us for such a bigoted reason. It's only in politics when it starts to matter," Replied Emily as she wagged a finger at him before sighing in weak frustration. "Anyway, can we not talk about the company, Noah. You know I despise talking about business, especially when on nights like this. It's just such a bore I just don't know how you stand it."

"Oh thank God, I was worried there," grinned Noah, breathing out a sigh of relief as he lounged back in his chair. "But it doesn't matter anyway. I may have come out to everyone but I don't have the person I came out for. I mean, I thought Kurt and I would get back together afterwards, but then the accident happened. So I decided to talk to him about us once he woke up, but his dad took him home back to Ohio when he did and now I get the sense that I won't be able to see him until he comes back, which could take weeks, and I want to see him now. I want him here with me now."

"I know you do Noah, but you have to give it time. A near death experience for someone can be very traumatic and smothering your little friend with ideas of getting back together so soon wouldn't have done him any good. Let him come to you. Only he will know when and if he's ready to come back to you," replied Emily. "Besides, I feel as if I've gained a little something here myself during this whole thing, because now I've got what I've always wished for, a gay son... bisexual sorry. Now you can come and advise me on haute couture, exotic cuisine, musical theater and antique furniture."

"Yeah right," scoffed Noah. "I'm not into all that, but... Kurt is... kind of. I mean, I think he prefers modern furniture to 'antiques', and I don't think he knows a great deal about 'exotic cuisine', but fashion he knows and musical theater he definitely knows. I just wish you could have met him, ma, that I could have introduced you to, because I wanted to. We had plans and everything because I knew you'd like him. He's witty, clever and funny and he's a great listener. I mean, he can listen to me for hours on end talking about anything and he'll sit there and listen. I just... just like being around him."

"That and he's gorgeous," giggled Emily. "You know Noah, just because I'm your mother, doesn't mean you can't mention the more... physical aspects of your attraction to him. He's a delightful little thing and you know you always had a weak spot for pretty things that weren't yours until you made it your mission to go after it and claim it as your own. It reminds me of how your father pursued me when we first met. I did the old 'hard to get' trick and I knew that for him it was annoying and frustrating as hell, but it just made the moment he finally caught me all the more satisfying."

"That's not what I heard," began Noah as Emily whipped her head to face him, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. Come to think of it, how his father and mother had met was similar to how he and Kurt had both met. Once Thomas had seen Emily in the papers after her Miss America win, he'd attended her next competition, Miss Universe, in hopes of meeting her where they had done at the after party. It was disturbing how coincidental it was. "I heard you slept with him on your first date when he took you out into the sea on his yacht. Apparently you were the loosest one of them all."

"How dare you," smiled Emily. "Lies, all lies... I slept with him on our third date and he proposed right after, but you should have seen how the other beauty pageant contestants or even women were in general when they were around your father. He was a handsome man Noah, very charming, charismatic and masculine. A real presence everyone loved being in, but you, young man, you should have learned by now to believe every single story and rumor in the press. I would have thought tasting your own medicine many a time over would have opened your eyes. Eh, Mr. Party Rocking Puckerman."

"Sorry," apologized Noah as he fell silent, his cocky laughter from before ceasing swiftly as his smirk faded. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just... You know there was a time when I didn't mind what the press nicknamed me as or wrote about me. It was back in high school and I thought it did great for my rep, but when I stopped wanting to have a lame ass reputation for being a 'badass', they kept on going, as if reminding me of what I'd been even when I was trying to change. They influenced everyone around me to think I was still 'Puck', except Kurt... God ma, I miss him. I really, really miss him."

"Who wouldn't miss a face as sweet as his, Noah. You couldn't have found a more innocent a model if you'd tried," complimented Emily as the man rested his head on her shoulder, her hand rubbing up and down his forearm comfortingly. "You know, I've seen his latest photos for LOVE magazine. I don't know if you saw them or not, but now I can't blame you for entering an affair with the boy because with an ass and a pair of legs like that, you make allowances for pretty much anything. 'Sex for Breakfast'? If he'd had breasts it would have been 'tits on toast', but he made it work."

"Oh my God, you saw those?" Noah asked incredulously, closing his eyes in embarrassment as Emily burst into a set of giggles, her son trying to hide his face in her neck as her chest went up and down with amusement. "It's weird that you've seen Kurt nearly naked. I mean, I don't like it when anybody does, especially when he's on those photoshoots of his in front of others, stripping, posing and pretending like he's orgasming for the camera. I know what those perverted photographers ask models to do, it's no secret, but to learn that your own mom has seen the boy you like nearly nude... that's just wrong."

"Again with the melodramatics, Noah. You should be happy that I approve of Kurt's appearance. You know, it's not unheard of in certain parts of the world that the bodies of both the man and woman are checked out for their virility and fertility before marriage," informed Emily. "The striking thing about Kurt is that he has a rather androgynous figure. He has the body of a male with the curves of a female, but with you, Noah, you take up after your father. I should know, you were very well endowed even when you were little when you used to streak around the house shouting, 'my penis momma! It's so big!' repeatedly."

"That's... embarrassing."

"Kurt must be pretty brave to tackle such a-"

"Ma!"

"Alright, alright, I'll stop... look Noah, I'm sorry about Quinn. Bat shit crazy as she was."

"Oh God ma, don't talk about her. Hell, I'd prefer it if you'd go back to talking about my dick, but please, just don't mention her name again," muttered Noah, pulling away from his mother and leaning back in his own chair. The mention of his ex-fiancée on a night like this only acted as a major downer to the event, which was rather counterproductive as the sheer spectacle of the show was not only to celebrate his birthday, but to also steer his mind clear of his past few strenuous days. Come to think of it, he really needed this distraction. "Wait ma, are you okay? You just swore, and you never swear."

"I'm entitled to Noah, the girl drugged me, and if what you said back in the cathedral was true, she could have killed me," replied Emily seriously. "Oh well, it's best not to think about it. I'm sorry I brought it up. Just promise me that the next person you become engaged to, you'll make sure they're not some crazed ex-girlfriend or money obsessed loon, because we both know how that will end. Nothing may happen to me, but you might end up being tied to the bed with a pig's bladder stretched over your head, a raw sausage in your mouth and a pineapple up your ass."

"How many drinks have you had?" Inquired Noah, frowning at his mother's odd behavior when he suddenly realized that a coupe of bubbling champagne was in her hand. Back down in the Grand Foyer, drinks had been distributed like candy for kids. A tall pyramid of champagne coupes had been erected in the centre and gallons upon gallons of champagne had been allowed to waterfall itself down into each glass. However, Noah suspected his mother may have stolen a bottle and stashed it under her seat, for no one her age could become intoxicated from a measly coupe. "Ma, are you... are you drunk?"

"No Noah, I'm just... let's just say I'm at the point where I no longer have any inhibitions. That and I'll be more tolerable to stay and listen to those ghastly metal bands off yours," replied Emily, calling over a nearby waiter holding a silver platter filled with flowing coupes of champagne. "It's a birthday celebration, Noah. Everyone here is to celebrate your coming of age and your now legal right to drink. That and you can now also rent a car from Avis and legally gamble in Las Vegas, but if you even think of doing that, I will cut you off. Just stick to the drinking for now. Here have one."

"Thanks, but you do realize ma that I've been drinking since I was sixteen. This isn't going to be the first drink I'm ever had," informed Noah, chuckling slightly as Emily passed him a coupe of champagne, her eyes wide as she took in the news. "I mean, come on. I wasn't going to wait until now to see what being hammered was like. I used to break into our liquor cabinet and wine cellar all the time. Plus I could pass for a twenty-one year old back when I was eighteen so working my fake ID was piss easy to get the kegs I needed for all those parties back in senior of high school."

"I would criticize your cursing Noah, but that would be hypocritical of me. Let's just try not to let our tongues slip and draw any more attention to ourselves because like you, I don't think anyone here has seen me tipsy before," replied Emily. "To be honest Noah, I knew about your drinking escapades with friends. Anita would tell me and sometimes I'd put two and two together. I wasn't always oblivious, although I apologize for when I was. I'm just glad you didn't go beyond rebelling with alcohol and that awful Mohawk... or are there things that both you and Anita have failed to inform me on?"

"I think it best if we leave it there. You really don't want to know anything else."

"Noah, what did you do?"

"Nothing, ma."

"Noah."

"I'm telling you I didn't do anything... except on Valentine's Day high school freshman year, I replaced all the candy hearts with frog hearts from the biology lab. In sophomore year, I got detention for swearing when I said I deserved a Mother's Day card for being 'a badass mother fucker'. In junior year, I was caught banging, by that time my thousandth chick, on the maps in the geography room where I accidently spunked on China, and in senior year, I smoked cigarettes, weed and pot behind the bleachers so I could play football high to piss off our coach. God, he was mad as hell," chuckled Noah.

Gaping back at her son, Emily stared at Noah before bursting into a fit of hysterics. The man had a lot of reservations about revealing just a taste of what he had done back in his high school years, for not only had he feared his mother going absolutely ballistic, but that she would, like the press, believe that the 'Puck' inside him was still very much there. Thankfully, due to her increasing champagne intake, Emily was taking his past antics very well and as the house lights dimmed and the stage lights ascended, Noah realized that this conversation with his mother was one of the first where they truly seemed to connect as mother and son since he was little. He didn't know whether that was just because he was now an adult, bisexual or whether this whole ordeal with Quinn had brought them closer, but he appreciated the feeling greatly. He had his ma back.

Looking at the stage, Noah watched as the show began. He remembered events like this when he was child, when his father was still alive. On particular birthdays and anniversaries of his marriage to Emily, Thomas would be thrown a massive celebration of similar grandeur and splendor as Noah's right now, but everyone knew that it wasn't Thomas's thing. The events were nothing more than a vanilla sponge of fundraising galas for the Democratic Party, masked under a thick layer of birthday celebration buttercream icing. However, unlike his father, Noah was thoroughly getting into the show. His favorite music was played, beautiful poetry was read out and personal speeches from every one of his family and friends were given, spliced seamlessly into the spectacle. However, Noah just only wished he could have enjoyed it with his special someone.

"Noah, hey dude," began Finn, standing before the lit podium at the front of the stage and waving up at his friend as he began his own speech. "On this occasion of your birthday, this lovely person is not only pulchritudinous but good. A person about whom, it truly may be said they need no introduction because in these past few months of modelling perhaps there has been no one model who has turned more heads, who has been talked about more and whose remarkable story has given more inspiration to all aspiring models than who we bring you tonight. Noah... Kurt Hummel!"

Noah gasped, his champagne coupe slipping from his loose grasp and spilling to the floor with a clunk as he tried to catch what Finn had really said. He'd only thought his friend would deliver his own speech, that he would like all the others, offer his touching words and be done with it, but as Noah snapped his eyes back to look at the program once more, he noticed that this was no speech, but the finale, hosted by Finn Hudson. Now he understood. Kurt was the finale. His Kurt was going to round off his birthday celebratory show and whether he did it with a bang or not, Noah didn't care. All he cared about was seeing his boy again. Sharing in the bewildered surprise was his mother, but unlike Noah who had been frozen in shock, she hastily joined in with the welcoming applause as the spotlight shone on the left hand wings of the stage.

Coming into view wearing a men's mink coat that covered his body from neck to toe, Kurt appeared onstage and made his way over to the podium next to Finn. The cheers and applause of a volume suited best for the Roman amphitheater accompanied the boy as he smiled up at Finn who in turn offered to take his jacket. Gladly shedding the faux fur coat, Kurt bit his lip as everyone was revealed his outfit; a pastel peach slim suit and tee shirt, nude shaded skinny jeans, black canvas plimsolls and a black veil head ban, it's ends falling gracefully behind him like a makeshift ponytail. At the sight, a wave of surprised gasps and moans of appreciation rang through the theater, and as Finn promptly gave the stage up for him, Kurt was left all alone on a 144ft long stage in front of six thousand people, their applause still very much ringing in the air as he smiled out to them all.

The truth was, Kurt was extremely nervous. There was now a huge silence in the auditorium, and a silence that palpable in a theatre this big was something he'd never quite experienced before. The Salvatore Spectacle, his first ever runway show had been his first ever stage instead of his bedroom, and the people there had been his first ever audience instead of his father. There had been twenty-thousand people that night in that arena, but yet even that was eclipsed as he stood as a lone figure in front of countless eyes. It somehow made him warm inside, as if it heated his flesh colored clothing that felt like his skin, from a supposed chill. Ultimately, like a kiss. A feeling that had him flicking the microphone before coming to stand before it, positioning it's head in line with his mouth. He was going to sing this song as if it were the last thing he would ever do.

_Happy Birthday to you,_  
_Happy Birthday to you,_  
_Happy Birthday Mr. Puckerman,_  
_Happy Birthday to you..._

The spotlight on Kurt was blinding. He'd had to raise his hands up to cover his eyes at first as he'd looked around the audience whilst waiting for his piano cue, but now that he was singing, he felt like the spotlight was serving him, not the other way around. However, he was glad he had the microphone in front of him, for he wasn't so much as projecting the song as he was breathing it out. Happy Birthday, a loved children's tune was now morphing into a sumptuous lullaby of sex, fit for a twenty-one year old birthday boy, and Kurt couldn't stop himself. His body had now a mind of its own, darkening his irises as he shot bedroom eyes up at Noah. His hands strayed from the microphone stand as they landed on his open body, traveling along fine material to feel his curves and his presence; his anatomy was raising the temperature into the stratosphere.

_Thank you Mr. Puckerman for all the things you've done_ _  
_The battles that you've won, the way you deal with US steel_  
_And our problems by the ton, we thank you so much_  
_Everybody, Happy Birthday!__

Throwing up his hands into the air, Kurt gestured to everyone in the audience to join in as the orchestra continued to play. Everyone stood up from their seats with a thunderous noise of their closing seats and turned to face Noah at his perch on the balcony, but as they all started singing happy birthday, the man's eyes did not stray for a single minute from Kurt's dancing form as the boy moved to the orchestrated music. The china-imported fireworks, that Emily had mentioned earlier, erupted from behind the brunet as the amazing spectacle illuminated the whole autroruim, sparklers, cart wheeling fireworks and fire capturing everyone's gazes. Following this, hundreds upon hundreds of red, white and blue balloons that had been caged in the ceiling were allowed to rain down on everyone, fluttering confetti and sparkling glitter also joining in their descent.

"Be careful honey, lean any further over the balustrade and you'll fall," warned Emily, pulling Noah back from the edge with a hand on his shoulder as she smiled at her son's happy face. From the moment Kurt had arrived at the podium, all through his erotic rendition of Happy Birthday, to now, Noah had stood up from his seat, grabbed the nearest set of binoculars he could find and brought them to his eyes, leaning so far over that it felt as though he was going to fall at any minute. "You know, I may have seen your boy in magazines and what not Noah, but in person, here and now, he looks glorious."

"He is, he's... he's the best finale and birthday present I could have ever wished for," gushed Noah, his voice breaking slightly as his emotions overran him like an avalanche. Kurt's sudden appearance had stunned him into submission, the boy's sultry serenading vocals had erected his trousers into a tent and whilst the performance had been wildly inappropriate, he couldn't help lapping up every note that had come out of Kurt's inviting mouth. He was insanely happy with joy, drunk on it. Kurt was here. Here. "Thanks, ma. Thank you for bringing him back to me."

"Me? I told you Noah, I had nothing to do with the finale."

"Then who invited him to perform?"

"I don't know. Finn possibly, or maybe Kurt himself."

"You think so?"

"That boy loves you Noah, he wouldn't have missed this for the world," smiled Emily, pointing to Kurt on the stage as the boy danced in the raining sparks of the fireworks, his beam like smile lifting Noah's heart to the skies. With his attention now on Kurt, Emily took a mental photograph of her son's expression. She hadn't seen a smile plastered on that thick for years and now that it had reappeared, she suspected it was going to be the first in many now that Kurt had returned. She approved of Kurt greatly, and even if she didn't, Noah wouldn't have cared. They were too deep in love to care. "Go to him, Noah."

Turning to look at his mother before fiercely nodding his head, Noah shoved the binoculars into her awaiting hands, scrambled out of his line of seats and pelted towards the nearest sets of stairs, taking two at a time. He didn't take great care trying to avoid people on his way. If footmen or various members of the theater staff didn't move aside fast enough, they could land in the champagne coupe pyramid for all Noah cared. No more obstacles were going to steal Kurt from him again for he believed that this boy had returned for him and him alone, no one else. Now, upon reaching the Grand Foyer, Noah followed every single sign he could find that could direct him towards the circle, and there he sprinted like nothing else, the hum like sound of the audience beyond awing in wonderment making itself heard in the distance.

Meanwhile, as Noah made his way through the theater like a hyperactive child in an Art Deco maze, on the stage, Kurt was introducing the birthday cake as it was wheeled on stage by two chefs. It was a large twelve-tiered confectionary monster made by Ladurée, stuffed full of raspberry meringue, rose flavored cream, raspberry jam and lychees. Sparklers and candles adorned its surface and along with the number twenty-one was 'Happy Birthday Noah' written on the top. The cake reached the podium just in time as the final notes of the song ended with ground breaking applause, and Kurt in the midst of it all couldn't help being a little cheeky. He dunked his finger into the blue fondant, scooped on a generous amount and sucked it dry, moaning slightly as he gave a thumbs up to the two chefs who smiled proudly and bowed respectably to the audience.

"Happy Birthday Baby..." cooed Kurt, nymph like tears of joy trickling down the sides of his curved cheekbones as he smiled, but as he was just about to blow a kiss to where he thought Noah was seated, he paused, frowning at the man's sudden disappearance. That was odd. Just a minute ago, Kurt could have sworn that Noah had been seating on that balcony alongside who he thought was his mother, but no. There was no one. He looked around the auditorium awkwardly for the man, his nerves increasing with each painful second, but again Noah wasn't anywhere. "Where... w-here has he... gone? Noah?"

He was nervous again. His nerves were pooling from every part of his body into his stomach to create a huge fluttering hive of butterflies. Everyone was watching him, well-known faces, celebrities and members of high society. They were eying him heavily, with the occasional onlooker glancing around for Noah, but when they too couldn't pinpoint him, they returned to drowning Kurt with their gaze. It was as if they had suddenly turned on him, wanted to see him fall after acting as the star to the finale. For Kurt, it reminded him of the Balencia Ball, a memory that made him want to bowl over in pain and as he could do no more than whimper into the microphone, his fingers tangling themselves together across his chest as his eyes started to water, this time in despair, he regretted his return.  _I shouldn't have come back. I'm too late. He's left me. He's gone. He's-_

"I'm right here, Kurt..."


	22. Man and Model

Fastening his white pea coat as tight as he could get it before the mad rush outside, Kurt was directed by a bodyguard at the Radio City Music Hall stage door towards his awaiting ride. Photographers and fans were already awaiting him, as well as the other performers by the time he'd got himself ready to leave but thankfully as he made his way out onto the sidewalk, metal barriers had been erected so as to keep everyone at bay. Kurt noted that some of the other well-known faces had dashed on over to their cars without even giving the camera a second glance or even considering scrawling their autographs on the many posters and pictures being thrusted into the air by their fans. Kurt was not like that though. As soon as he had appeared before them all, he'd given as many of the people out there exactly what they wanted.

Many of them were wishing he was well after his accident, that they found him beautiful and that were the rumors about him and Noah true. Were they an item? All Kurt had done was wink suggestively. Everyone who had been in the auditorium now knew about him and Noah, but the rest of the world? He didn't need to tell anyone. He just left them guessing, for the news would spread like wildfire soon enough, and after several minutes posing, signing, talking and smiling, Kurt was hastily ushered into the black Mercedes Benz. As he began to think that with each autograph he'd written, his calligraphy had improved every time, Kurt peered out the window as the car pulled away from the sidewalk. The flashes from his friendly posse, the camera crew, soon disappeared within the city and Kurt could only bite his lip in anticipation for his destination.

Winding back the clocks to when he'd returned to Lima, Kurt had spent a full two weeks recovering. Well not so much two weeks, more like a week. The first week had consisted of continuous lie ins, breakfast in bed, long baths and naps on the lawn in his garden. Whilst the second week had consisted of good old father and son bonding time with Burt, whether that was in the form of watching re-run episodes of Deadliest Catch together, working at the garage together or recounting happy memories of Kurt's childhood over toddler pictures. It had been a great stay and it had done Kurt a lot of good, but after an afternoon browsing the news on his laptop, he'd been reminded of Noah's upcoming birthday, and it's huge ass show accompanying it. Now he knew what his father had been talking about. This show was it. This was his comeback.

His subsequent return to New York had been very discreet, very quiet. Everything had been kept under wraps, even when he'd got a hold of Finn Hudson's email through his girlfriend, Rachel. She had given Kurt her email when they'd attended the Balencia Ball all those weeks ago, saying she would be honored to help him audition for the second time at NYADA if he so chose to, and although he'd never planned on taking her up on that, he'd needed her for this, just this once. Through Rachel, Kurt had contacted Finn about the possibility of squeezing him into the celebrations, and although the model had had reservations as to whether the man had anything to do with the show, or if he had any say in it if he was, it had luckily turned out that Finn was overseeing and set to host the finale. No more had had to be said. Kurt had got this in the bag.

He'd arrived a day before the gala to rehearse at Radio City Music Hall, on the stage, standing in front of an empty auditorium and reciting Happy Birthday at least thirty times before being fully content with it. Originally, he'd wanted to perform a more impressive song. Whether it was a show tune or a pop tune, he didn't care, just as long as it was a tune that would boast his vocal chords and stage presence. After all, this was Radio City Music Hall. As for his outfit, he'd had no idea what to wear to such a momentous occasion, only that he wanted it to be fitting, sophisticated, but above all sexy. A piece that would impress the audience and make Noah want to dive his hand into Kurt's pants, something that may have happened when the man suddenly appeared behind him on the stage and lead them both over to the podium for the closing speech.

"I can now end this day after having been sung Happy Birthday to me in such a sweet, wholesome way," chuckled Noah, as he had leaned into the microphone and smirked, the whole auditorium erupting into a mountainous roar of laughter and applause as the man's allusion to Kurt's performance, which was anything but wholesome, seemed to have them all in stitches. "Kurt, thank you so much for that, but you know, the song is never fully complete without the blowing of the candles, the making of a wish, and the kiss from your love. Now gimme some sugar, baby."

Before Kurt had been able to have a say in the matter or even protest, Noah had brought him to the side of the podium, wrapped his arms around his waist and dipped him in a Hollywood kiss, lips meeting in the stage spotlight and in the presence of six thousand people, applauding and wolf whistling as their love was officially confirmed. Kurt, as he sat now in the traveling Mercedes, could only bring his hand to his giggling mouth, his head shaking as he recalled the event. He would have been utterly embarrassed if it had not been for how happy he'd been to see Noah again, and how beyond the moon with joy Noah was in return. The man had then turned around to his cake and blown out the candles, made his wish and dunked his own finger in the fondant to taste it before repeating, this time to feed Kurt... as if it were their wedding day.

Further giggling at the thought, at the sheer preposterousness, Kurt brought his hand away from his mouth and calmed down, though a smile was still etched across his face. Once Noah had thanked everyone for their generous donations to the Democratic party, but above all for coming, the curtain had descended to the stage floor. The house lights had come on, a heavy hum from the audience began as they made their way to the exits, but the midst of all the hustling and bustling, Noah had dragged Kurt into the darkness of the wings and had further kissed the living daylights out of him. A meeting with his favorite bands had been scheduled, handshakes with the actors had been in order, but no, Noah had had Kurt pinned against the wall, tongues battling and chests moaning, the only performer he had wished to become further acquainted with.

That kiss had led to Noah requesting a private audience with him at his penthouse tonight. It was the reason why Kurt was on his way there right now. However the strange thing about it was that the man was not accompanying him. Kurt hadn't expected to come alone to Noah's residence, yet here he was, stepping out of the Mercedes and onto the sidewalk, quickly shuffling himself into the luxurious lobby of the man's apartment building as he made his way towards the elevator. Marilyn Monroe had sung Happy Birthday to the President and his brother, Bobby, had hovered around her like a moth to a flame after her performance, very much like what Noah had done to Kurt. However, it was the President who had accompanied Monroe back to his suite at the Carlyle Hotel later that on night, very much something Noah was not doing right now.

Kurt supposed there was a legitimate reason why Noah had left before him, as if he were leaving him behind with the party guests he cared nothing about. To think that way only made the man seem rude, but again Kurt believed there was a just reason behind it. After all, he and Noah hadn't seen each other in two weeks and the last time they had, Kurt had been in a hospital bed as fast asleep as Sleeping Beauty herself. These were all things that made him think, but as soon as he remembered the real 'private audience' reason why he was in a lift to Noah's penthouse, his legs began to buckle. This was the birthday night of a man, no longer a boy with midnight feasts, but a man, and that meant cake and sex, and lots of it. For Noah was going to put his name on him. Candles were going to be blown out, and Kurt, tonight, was the birthday bitch.

Ding! The elevator's musical chime snapped Kurt out of his thoughts and slid open the doors, the modern foyer of Noah's penthouse with the front door several meters away leading to the bachelor pad beyond coming into view. This was it. He was here. The night belonged to both him and Noah. It was time. With that thought, Kurt stepped out of the elevator and made to make his way to the door, but somehow he couldn't garner the nerves to take another step closer. He'd been to this penthouse twice before. The stays had started off reasonably well, but had also ended with him being yelled at, insulted and ordered never to return. Did he really want to risk again? How many more crazy women were there lined up to scream at him? He doubted any that he knew of and besides, the third time was considered the charm. He'd just have to see.

However, as he did, only then did he notice that Noah's door was unlocked, ajar, and open. This was odd. Noah always firmly shut his door. To see it like this was disconcerting and a little off-putting. Images of a robber, an arsonist or a murderer breaking into the penthouse, stealing Noah's prized possessions, desecrating his home or murdering him had Kurt's knees buckling a whole other way than before. Yet as the boy looked closer, he noticed that there were no scratches on the polished wood, no signs of forced entry, not even the measliest hint of a struggle. What was going on? It was a mental question that had Kurt pushing the door further open, the hinges squeaking ever so slightly, but as soon as he saw red on the floor in the low-lit light, his heart stopped. Was that blood?! God, what had happened?! Why was there... wait a minute.

Pushing the door fully open until it hit the wall with a bump, Kurt allowed the light from the brightly lit foyer to shine into the penthouse, but as it did, Kurt began to understand what was going on. The red on the floor was not from blood, but from a rose petal, and not just from one rose petal, but from a whole trail of them. Kurt lifted his eyes and noticed that the petals seemed to lead from where he was, through the hallway and into the living room further down. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kurt closed his eyes. He'd been scared there for a minute. He'd genuinely thought something had happened. Well, something had, just something a lot more romantic. He shut the front door behind him and like a child, he followed the petals as if they were Noah's breadcrumbs, leading him to whatever the man had in store, and what Noah had in store was breathtaking.

Tens of Jo Malone Nectarine Blossom and Honey home candles had been lit in select places, offering the air a fruity smell in contrast to the rose petals that were everywhere. There was not a single surface not covered with the red flower, from the floor itself to the couches by the crackling fire. The coffee table had also its fair share of sprinkled rose petal rain, but on it was the highest tier from Noah's Ladurée birthday cake from the show. How it had been delivered here before Kurt baffled the boy but there it was, sitting comfortably on a plate alongside two other plates of pre cut cake. However, Kurt's feasting eyes on the confectionary shifted to the ruffling curtains of the balcony doors. Petals around it were being swept up by the light breeze and it enticed Kurt to come closer, to come outside, to inhale the night air that seemed so sweet.

Feeling himself heat up from the warm temperature of the room, Kurt undid his pea coat and let it drop to the petal covered floor as he wondered towards the billowing curtains and out onto the balcony. Now he knew the reason behind why Noah had left the theater early. He'd come to set all this all up, to prepare the evening for a night they'd hopefully never forget, and at this rate, Kurt wouldn't. He couldn't help but feel impressed at the vast attention to detail everything looked. Nothing seemed out of place, perfectly postioned for a perfect night. The lights were dimmed low with only the candles and the fire as glow like illumination, the fruit and floral accords from the candles and petals as well as the evening air brought the seductive perfume and the crackling of the fire and breeze brought the music for the night. Perfection.

"Hey babe," came a husky voice behind Kurt as the boy froze, his eyes widening as he slowly turned around to see Noah in the balcony doorway holding two flute glasses of champagne, the man's grin gracing his full lips. Returning the smile, Kurt allowed his eyes to travel, taking in Noah's attire. He was still wearing his suit from before except his jacket was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned, rustling in the breeze to reveal a tanned torso underneath, a man's silver steel necklace was looped around his neck and his shoes and socks had been shed in favor of bare feet. He looked  _so_  sexy. "Like what you see, baby?"

"You mean you or this penthouse love nest of yours, because it looks beautiful. Did you do all this all by yourself?"

"With help from Anita. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure I would have accidently set fire to the place."

"Anita? Why would she be helping you? She did know who this was for, right?"

"Of course she did, Kurt. She wanted to make this night a night to remember... for the both of us."

"Again... why?" Queried Kurt, his brows furrowing as he questioned the maid's motives. Noah setting all this up was maybe too good to be true, for Kurt had never known the man to have much of an artistic eye. There was definitely the hint of a woman's touch in the petaled and flame flickering decor and Kurt could believe if Noah had been left alone with a sea of candles, flames of a greater kind would have flickered. "I mean, I know you and Quinn are finished but Anita did seem to have pretty strong views on marriage fidelity when she shouted at me. She must still disapprove of our affair."

"In some ways yes, but in others, no. She eventually came to see how happy you made me, that you'd brought back her 'nounours', and that it was so much better than what Q made me into; a depressed as fuck loner who locked himself up in his room and thought of you," revealed Noah. "In the end though, cheating on Quinn didn't seem like such a bad thing, because after Anita spied on me for Q, taking photographic evidence of us the day she shouted at you, she learned what kind of girl Quinn really was, the real reason behind the marriage and how she did it. Kurt, it was Anita who stopped the wedding."

"She did?" Gasped Kurt, his blue eyes widening once more as Noah nodded in confirmation. Anita was turning out to be more than just a mere maid in this whole thing. Her character role from extra to secondary was unexpected and Kurt couldn't help but deepen his frown in response. Spying, taking 'evidence' in the form of intimate photos of him and Noah together but turning on her boss in the final hour. What the hell? "Noah, what happened in that cathedral? All I know is that you ditched Quinn at the altar after you 'learned' something about her. Tell me, what is it that Anita told you?"

"It's something I should have known myself a long time ago. I mean, I've known Q all through high school so you would have thought I would have guessed that even though she acted as if she didn't want to marry me, she did, but only because all she was after, all she was ever interested in was my fortune," replied Noah. "Typical really, but believe it or not, her being a gold panning bitch isn't the worst of it. It wasn't my ma's idea to have me marry Quinn, it was Q's. She went to my ma and brainwashed her with dangerous drugs that could have killed her instantly if she'd overdosed, and all for money."

"Oh my God... Noah, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. My ma's had some tests done and she's fine. The affects of the drug have completely worn off."

"What about Quinn? What's happened to her?"

"Her trial's coming up, for which she will be found guilty and sent to jail for a very long time. I'll make sure of it."

"Well, at least she won't be around to stir any more trouble. I guess now that I know things; I can start to understand why she hired Anita as her spy. You flirting with other women was harmless to her, it didn't pose a problem, but if you fell in love, that was the real threat. There'd be no longer any use for her I suppose," analyzed Kurt. "Yet there's something I don't get. I know Anita chose her beliefs in marriage above seeing you happy, otherwise she wouldn't have shouted at me and taken those photos of us, but how did she found out the truth about Quinn? Who told her?"

"You won't know her, but apparently Anita got tipped off an hour before the wedding from a girl I knew from high school," answered Noah. "Her name's Lauren and she was like the female badass at school, the best on the wrestling team. We respected each other, had a mutual agreement not to piss each other off, and had each other's backs. I was surprised that she still had mine even after graduation, but when I asked her how she found out what Q did, she didn't tell me. She says she's saving the story for when she testifies against her in court, says that revenge will be even 'sweeter' that way."

"Wow, Quinn must have made an enemy out of the wrong girl in high school. I hope you thanked Lauren for what she did, and I hope you thanked Anita too. Both those women helped you out of that marriage just in time," replied Kurt. "Actually, come to think of it, I would like to thank Anita myself. Even if we did get off on the wrong foot, I want to thank her for believing what Lauren said, because I imagine she didn't have to without proof. It could have been a lie, but I think the part of her that missed her 'nounours' was just trying to find an excuse to come out because I think deep down she knew your marriage was wrong."

"You think so?" smiled Noah. "Well then I guess insisting she help me do this place up for us tonight was her way of apologizing for helping Quinn. She hasn't forgiven herself yet. She's still ashamed of what she's done, but I know Anita to be a good person, Kurt. She'd always have my best interests at heart even if I haven't always agreed with them. It's just that this time she was led astray and taken advantage of by someone who lied to her. She loves my family so much and she'll do anything to protect it. That's why she's also testifying against Q. She wants to see that girl in jail as much as I do."

"I'm sure she does, but let's not talk any more about Quinn."

"All right, let's talk about your rendition of Happy Birthday."

"You already did, Noah. You called it 'sweet' and 'wholesome'."

"Like I was ever going to tell everyone what I really thought of it, Kurt. I had a hard on throughout."

"Really, because I was just singing. I had no intention of raising Puckzilla to full salute in front of six thousand people," replied Kurt innocently before deflating. "Sorry, Noah, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it. I know it was inappropriate and I know a lot of people will criticize my 'lack of indiscretion', but to tell you the truth, I didn't intend to sing it that way. I meant to belt it out like a Broadway star, but I was nervous and so my voice came out breathy and before I knew it, I was parodying Marilyn Monroe. I have to say I'm a little disappointed with myself. I could have done so much better."

"No baby, don't say that. You don't have to think what anyone else thought. That song was for me, and I loved it. I really did," smiled Noah, nearing Kurt as he offered the boy a full flute of champagne before running his fingers through his chocolate locks. "Kurt, your voice was in tune, it was sensual and it was perfect. There's nothing wrong with bringing sex appeal to a song. Some work better with it, and besides, it gave me an excuse to kiss you at the end. It gave me the perfect opportunity to show the world that we love each other, that you're my boy and that we are together."

"So, I'm guessing your mom doesn't have a problem with me does she?" Asked Kurt tentatively, Noah firmly shaking his head as the brunet smiled in return. Looking down at his champagne flute, Kurt noticed the almost miniscule bubbles in the liquid popping one by one. He wasn't a fan of the drink unless it was the sweetest kind and so he gave it a sip to find out. It was. It acted as the fizzling sweetener that had him sighing in relief that Emily Puckerman approved of him. "Noah, apart from the inappropriate first impression I must have given back at the theater, what does your mom think of me?"

"Well it's not as if she hasn't seen you before, Kurt. It's hard not to notice the hottest model on the New York fashion scene when he's posed on most magazine covers," grinned Noah. "She called you a 'delightful little thing' and that it was no wonder I went after you because you are 'gorgeous'. I'm not going to tell you anything else she said because she was a little drunk at the time, but no, she doesn't mind that I'm bi, nothing's happened to the company and she thought you were 'glorious' when you sang on that stage. She's actually the one who told me to join you there once you'd finished, and I did."

"Was she? Well, you have a quite a few women in your life who care about you, Noah. You're lucky."

"I am, but what they did would have been pointless if you weren't here with me now, Kurt."

"And what do you intend to do with me now, Mr. Birthday Boy?"

"Kurt, you don't get it. Everything they did would have meant nothing if you'd... if you'd d-drowned in that lake."

"Noah, don't think that. I'm fine. I'm... oh baby, come here," gushed Kurt, putting his champagne flute on the floor as no sooner had he straightened up then he'd been engulfed in Noah's arms. The man was crying, and that had only ever happened once before back in Lima when Kurt had nearly left him. He'd threatened him by cutting off all ties after a massive fight and it had been then that Kurt had learned the man's ultimate weakness, a weakness that was now returning in the form of big fat tears raining on his jacket. "It's all right, Noah. Everything's all right. It was an accident. It was-"

"No Kurt! It wasn't just an 'accident'!" Roared Noah, pulling himself from Kurt and roughly wiping away his tears as he seethed at Kurt menacingly. "After your dad told me to go home, I went straight to the hospital desk to found out exactly what happened that day! See by then the police had given them all the information they needed and I through them I found out that according to people on the shoot, you were hammered! You sailed out onto that lake with that other model completely wasted! I mean, what the hell, Kurt?! Why would do that?! What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I... I wasn't thinking, Noah," faltered Kurt, gulping as he took in the man's rage filled face. Again, he'd only ever seen Noah this distressed in Lima, when the man had been plagued with the thought of losing him, but this time, it seemed worse. Noah was absolutely mental, and Kurt really had no idea how to calm him down. He didn't want to reveal the true reason why he'd been drunk that day. He didn't want to be perceived as emotionally weak, neither did he want to hurt his pride, yet by the looks of it, Noah really wasn't going to let it go without an explanation. "Please Noah, calm down. Plea-"

"No I won't, Kurt! They said you needed help getting to pose, that you were stumbling all over the place, peering over the side into the water and apparently, at one point, you were pointing at some birds in the sky where you actually followed them to the end of the boat and nearly fell off!" Shouted Noah. "Then they told me the sail knocked that other model in the water, that you were still falling around the place but this time, you actually jumped in after him! What the fuck, Kurt?! You were off your face! Like that other model you could have drowned! They said you fainted before you were even rescued!"

"Noah please, calm down."

"The fuck I will! Since when do you drink?!"

"I don't, but I promise I'll never do something like that again."

"How do I know that Kurt! How can I know that you're not going to drink and risk your life again?!"

"Of all the people who I thought would understand why I drank that day, I thought it would be you, Noah!" Retaliated Kurt. "You were getting married and I was upset! I'd spent two weeks busying myself with anything that would distract me from thinking of you, but that day it's all I could think about, so I drank! I thought it would soothe me, but it didn't! It embarrassed me in front of everyone, endangered Theo, and after he fell overboard, I tried to save him! I tried to throw him the rope but when he disappeared, I panicked and jumped after him! Only then did I know I was too late! His face, Noah! His dead face!"

"You... you tried to save him?" muttered Noah, his mouth unable to further form coherent words as his heart welled for the upset boy in front of him. Kurt, like him, hadn't been happy during the time they'd been apart. He wouldn't have guessed from the way the boy seemed to have moved on so quickly, which to Noah had been another emotional blow, but now to hear that Kurt had tried to save the life of someone else in the midst of a period where he probably didn't want to live himself, that was something that touched Noah deeply. "Kurt, I'm... I'm sorry. The hospital didn't tell me this."

"Of course they didn't, Noah! Only I will ever know what truly happened out on that sailboat! Sure that camera crew is keen to rush to its own defense by claiming to have seen how I was like, but what about how they threw us into a boat without telling us how to sail it, or what about when I was trying to save a life?! Did anyone of them try to help us?! No! Did they just stand there and watch?! Yes!" Shouted Kurt. "The only decent one there was Joshua! He was the one who swam all the way over to us when he saw Theo fall in! He's the one who sailed us back to land! He's the one who saved my life!"

"Josh...," muttered Noah, his outrage returning in waves as they hit against shores of vehemence. Joshua had played a significant role in all this, but there'd been a reason why Noah's mind had chosen to ignore him. His hands would cave into pulsating fists so that the veins on his arms bulged dangerously and his jaw could clench so hard it felt as if his teeth were sinking back into his gums from whence they came. Josh and Kurt had courted, kissed, maybe fucked on silk, who the hell knew what they'd done. To Noah, his boy had been vandalized, a heinous crime to which Kurt had fully consented to.

"His name is Joshua, Noah, and yes, I found out from my dad that immediately after he saw what was going on, he dived straight into the lake and saved me before I drowned! If he hadn't, I'd be dead!" Snapped Kurt. "You really thought I wasn't hurting, Noah?! You really thought I could return to my life to the way it was that easily?! Well, you're wrong! Every day was an emotional chore for me, so just lay off okay! Besides, it's not as if you didn't behave normally yourself during that time, or did you sail easily through it? You didn't act at all irrationally when you first learned of me and Joshua, surely."

"Fuck you, Kurt. I know what you're doing and I'm not going to stand here and give you the satisfaction of giving you a reaction," snarled Noah, but it was only a matter of seconds before said reaction was born. "I was in fucking pieces when we broke up, Kurt! I felt and looked like shit! I locked myself in my room, hardly ate, never slept, I was slowly killing myself to death! Then when I heard of you and that Josh guy, you know what I almost did?! I nearly raped Quinn over your pictures to make it feel as if I were cheating on you to! I couldn't believe what you'd done! As if you no longer loved me!"

"I was trying to move on, Noah! I was trying to love again!"

"You now saying you're in love with your swimming savior, eh Kurt? Or are you still just fucking him?"

"Why? Are you afraid to look at him again and wonder if I found him a better fuck than you?"

"Don't push me, Kurt. Fucking answer me, are you still his whore? His thigh spreading, come swallowing little wh- argh, fuck!"

"How dare you!" Screamed Kurt indignantly, snatching the flute glass out of Noah's unsuspecting hand and chucking its contents right into the man's face. Stumbling back, Noah brought his hands to his drenched skin and from the pained cry and set of sore moans that followed; Kurt knew that he'd struck bull's eye. "Me?! A whore?! Takes one to know one, Noah! You've spread more thighs and come down more girl's throats than the loosest gutter slut in Amsterdam! Joshua and I treated each other with nothing but respect, and to have you accuse me of using him solely for sex is just plain spiteful!"

"Spiteful?! I'm not stupid, Kurt! Even though I was pissed that you'd gone off with him, I knew what you were using him for! Don't give me that 'trying to move on' bullshit or that 'trying to love again' crap, he was nothing but a fuck buddy, Kurt! You only used him to keep your bed warm at night, and to stain you're fucking Egyptian cotton sheets with!" Accused Noah. "And yet the best part of it is, I bet he had no clue about you and me! That even as a fuck buddy he couldn't compare to me! For you see Kurt, no one is better than me! No one has what it's got to fuck you so good you melt on a mattress, but me!"

"You think you're so grand! That just because you're Noah Puckerman, you can make statements like that! That just because you've got the body, the sex appeal and the dick to match your huge ass ego that you can go around boasting something that everyone in this city makes fun of you for!" Retaliated Kurt. "Well here's an eye opener for you, Noah, I never slept with Joshua! Not once did we do that, but since you think you're all that in bed, I'm going to return to him with everything you and I did that never failed to get me off to make him scream until his lungs are bust. Here that, baby, to make him scream!"

"Take. That. Back."

"No."

"I told you not to push me, Kurt! Take it all fucking back, right now!"

"Or what? You're going to tear my clothes off and force yourself upon me as you nearly did Quinn?"

"I'd never rape you, Kurt. I'd never to need to because I know you'd consent. Why else would you have come back to me? Why else would you have really sung Happy Birthday to me the way you did? I know why, because you crave me. You want another ride on me. So guess what baby, I'm all yours. Ride me," provoked Noah, his arms outstretched as he beckoned Kurt nearer, but Kurt did not move an inch. He hadn't minded the man's light boasting in the past, seeing as it had been a way of gaining praise, something he'd lacked when little, but now it had gone too far, and Kurt wasn't having any of it.

He stared at Noah, stared deep into those hazel eyes, and all he saw back at him was a mountain of insecurity, masked by a vaunting like attitude of bravado. It was sad that they were fighting like this, ruining the man's birthday night on a matter that could have been so easily settled if they'd just been mature about it all. As a result, Kurt didn't know what to say. It seemed words weren't going to get him anywhere and in that moment, he decided it best if he left. Noah needed to wake up, get over his jealousy, possessiveness and pride and grow up, because there was no way he'd get through to him when he was like this. However, no sooner had Kurt come to that decision, then he knew Noah had caught on. The man now knew Kurt wasn't going to ride him. He wasn't going to touch him. There wasn't even any 'craving' to speak of. He'd gone too far.

"Kurt? Kurt, where are you going?" Exclaimed Noah as Kurt made to round him but only ended up being stopped with large hands landing on his small shoulders. Yet Kurt was still not having any of it, and as he shrugged off Noah's hands, he made to round the man again, but like before, he was stopped. This time however, Noah gently pushed him against the wall and pressed his warm body against his. The man made to kiss him, to capture his lips with his hands caressing his body but still Kurt continue to rebuff him. So much so that Noah's anger rose until with a snap, he lashed out. "Fucking kiss me, Kurt!"

"Oh I'm sorry, Mr. Birthday Boy. Being the supposed 'whore' that I am, your mom only paid me to keep you company for an hour, and guess what, it's been an hour. Maybe next time you'll waste less time on foreplay and more on the play, but it's just as well. I wouldn't have kissed that mouth or ridden that dick of yours for all the money in the world!" Shouted Kurt, shooting out his hand and clawing his nails down Noah's chest with a vengeance. Crying out in pain, the man stumbled back and at this, Kurt ran. He pelted from the balcony towards the front door, his head never looking back, his feet never stopping.

Kurt wasn't going to admit it, he would find it contradictory if he did, but somehow the way Noah had manhandled him up against that wall had been a major turn on. He'd been dominated into a space that had simmered down to nothing and the sexual tension between them had been almost too uncomfortable not to appease. They hadn't been intimate in a month and it could have been so easy to give into Noah with the kiss that had been demanded oh so passionately. For the man may have been pointing out Kurt's supposed lust for him, but Noah's own sexual desires were through the roof. The man wanted him just as badly, maybe even more by the way he was sprinting after him, and somehow at this, Kurt didn't know whether to stop and give in or to continue escaping. Though in the end, his thoughts had been answered. Noah had caught him.

"Hell no, Kurt! This is one birthday party you're not getting out of early!" Barked Noah, hauling Kurt against his chest as the boy struggled in his arms. The man then returned them both to the living room, his arms clenching tighter around Kurt with every squirm the boy frantically made. "If you think I'm going to let you go back to that other guy just to piss me off, you're wrong! He's not going to be screaming shit! You got that, Kurt?! You're with me! I met you first, I loved you first and you're not going anywhere without me making it clear to you that you're fucking mine! You're staying here with me!"

"Noah, stop it! You can't do this to m- Noah! Stop!" Pleaded Kurt, as without further time to protest, he was thrown onto the petal sprinkled couch as Noah landed firmly on top of him. Tonight was really shaping up as a repeat of their night in Lima, but this time, Noah wasn't waiting. He pinned Kurt down with his weight as he rained kisses along his pale neck, unzipped his trousers and unbuttoned Kurt's jeans as he pulled them down much to the boy's despair. However, as Noah's erection came to frot against Kurt with a powerful thrust, the boy caved. He just couldn't resist. "Oh God, N-Noah... fuck me."

"Yeah, Kurt... gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you so hard," voiced Noah through his kisses, throwing off his shirt to the ground as Kurt also rid himself of his jacket. The man was thrusting harder now, so much harder like he said would, and although Kurt loved it, there was still that simmer of anger within from before. It seemed to roil there, begging to be released through some violent way or another and so as Noah growled lustfully against him in mid kiss, Kurt bit his lip. Yelping, Noah pulled back to look down at Kurt with a look of pissed confusion, but as Kurt winked at him, he finally got it.

Kurt wanted to play dirty. He wanted to play rough. The argument from before had unknowingly set the mood for angry sex and it was coming out in all its different forms. The boy was now biting Noah's lip harder, enough to draw blood when they kissed, he was digging his nails painfully deeper into his biceps and finally, he was slapping Noah's smirking face with a satisfaction that only seemed to sweeten the pleasure. For Noah, he'd never had sex of this violent a nature before. It was so animalistic, so savage and wild. S&M at its lightest with a hot as fuck kinky deviantly twisted tasting aspect that had his raging hard on growing into a greater pole of steaming steel. It was enough to join Kurt in his play by placing his own hand on the boy's throat and pressing lightly, sucking painful hickey's on his pale neck and biting down hard on his ears.  _Fuck!_

"Oh baby, you like it rough, don't you," moaned Noah, helping Kurt untangle himself from his tee shirt that revealed a chest that looked so tempting amongst the flowered field of roses all around. To be honest, he had originally pegged Kurt as someone only up for vanilla sex. Not that what they'd done had been stale and dull by any means, he'd just never thought to see his boy beyond that flavor. Oh how he'd been wrong. Kurt wasn't just Peach Melba or French Custard, but also Black Cherry and Double Dutch Chocolate with Noah's whipped cream set to spray. "Fuck, Kurt... gonna make me come so bad."

"Well, prepare to come baby, because tonight I'm serving you," smirked Kurt, flitting his eyes over to the coffee table next to them where Noah's birthday cake was, and at the sight, an idea popped into his head. Flipping and switching their positions, Kurt came to straddle Noah, jumping onto the muscular mount like a jockey ready for the gallop. Noah's face meanwhile was rife with chuckling surprise, his eyes still lust blown as if the more Kurt took control, the more he succumbed to the boy above. "When you serve the birthday boy, you must make sure that he always comes first. It's a hard, hard job."

"Fuck yeah, Kurt. That's it, serve me. Make me come," encouraged Noah, adjusting his shaft to rub in between the globes of Kurt's ass as his hands squeezed almost painfully tight onto the boy's grinding hips. However, Kurt had other plans. As he leaned over to the coffee table, he snatched a piece of pre-cut cake from its plate and crushed it onto Noah's bare stomach. There he grated it savagely along the man's defined abs, smearing his torso with fondant icing, meringue and cream, letting it drip everywhere as the boy sank his hands into it all before licking each jam soaked finger. "Oh Kurt... I fucking love you."

"Oh... oh God...," muttered Kurt, freezing in mid lick as he seemed to deflate from his lust filled high. Just a minute ago, they'd been like wild animals in heat, wanting to get off. They'd been frisky with each other, voicing they're carnal needs without shame but now, after having heard words that to Kurt were nothing but romantic, he couldn't help but know why people didn't utter them when having sex of this nature. It acted as a sweet dampener, ridding one of anger somehow and increasing the loving intimacy. It served to open Kurt's embarrassed eyes. He'd forgotten himself. "I'm sorry, Noah."

"What? Why?" Frowned Noah, pulling himself up from the lying position on the couch and turning Kurt's face to look at him with his fingers softly to his chin. He'd understood that he'd said he loved Kurt in the midst of the moment, but that surely couldn't be the problem now could it? The words had just out when he'd bit his lip and shivered in delight as the jam from the cake had trickled into the groves of his muscular stomach, looking like a red river in a golden trench. It had tickled and pleasured him yet his 'server' now looked like he'd gone too far. "Kurt, what is it? What's wrong, baby?"

"I... look at me, Noah. Look at what I'm doing, you must think I've gone nuts," Murmured Kurt. "I mean I'm no sadist. I'm not a masochist either yet there I was doing just that, and what the hell am I doing to this cake? I'm supposed to be eating it not throwing it at you. You and Anita put in all this effort to make this place look the way it is, to set up for an evening you're not even supposed to be setting up since you're the birthday boy, and here I am acting crazy. I'm shouting at you, I threw a drink in your face, I'm hurting you and now I'm wasting expensive batter and frosting by mashing it up on your perfect abs!"

"Kurt, hey, take it easy," soothed Noah. "Look, I've got to admit this evening didn't go the way I planned. I'd originally pegged we'd be having sex for the third time right about now, but that's only because I've been in blue ball hell for weeks. The important thing is that you're here, because if you weren't, I'd either be at my after party or here all alone with cake for company. I don't care that we had a fight, I don't care that we're not 'making love' just because there are candles and petals all around us telling us to. You've made this night so far the most interesting, and that's a present I'll remember forever."

"Really? So you don't mind that I'm playing rough?"

"Are you kidding? Angry sex is hot! Those are a pair of sharp claws you've got there, you little kitten."

"And what about the cake."

"Again, no one can make food sexy other than you, babe. You've made it into a fetish of mine."

"A fetish? Ooh, you are a dirty boy aren't you," giggled Kurt sinfully, leaning in and licking Noah's lips lightly before ravishing them, his hands pushing the man back down on the couch as he eyed Noah's caked torso. He'd always wanted an excuse to lick the man's abs. His tongue was going to flicker out and lap up every crumb from this body. His lips would be glossed in jam and his chin glazed in fondant for the birthday boy always came first and Kurt always cleaned up after himself. "Well, in that case Noah, I don't want to leave this cake out on your stomach like this. I always finish what's on my plate..."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Opening his eyes to the sight of the sun's golden rays peering in through the curtains and the baby like hum of the city outside, Kurt glanced around and took in his surroundings. He was currently tucked comfortably in Noah's warm bed, the duvet engulfing him and keeping him safe, yet nothing could compare to the strongly built arm that was draped around him from behind. Noah's hand was splayed out over his stomach as if nursing an unborn baby underneath Kurt's skin and the rest of the man's body was pressed up against him, spooning him yet lightly rustling his hair with his breath. Kurt giggled. Noah wasn't awake. He doubted he would be for some time since by the look of the digital clock on the end table, it was only seven o'clock. Noah looked like a man who enjoyed his lie in's and judging by what they did last night, he'd definitely need it.

After an eventful start to Noah's birthday soirée last night, things had become a lot more heated. Kurt had spent around two to three minutes lapping up like a kitten hungry for its milk, every squashed chunk of cake that had he'd pressed to Noah's stomach. It would now count as one of the most arousing acts of foreplay they'd ever engaged in and the boy had been planning to continue servicing the man with a lick of a certain leaking member further down south, but unknown to him, he'd already been stimulating it. Noah's stomach had turned out to be a golden field of hidden erogenous zones, and so with every lick Kurt had laid on, the man's arousal had multiplied, with every kiss or brush of his plump lips that had been given, Noah's moans had increased until with a climactic roar, he had come all over his freshly licked skin.

It was something that fascinated Kurt. He hadn't even been touching Noah's manhood yet through it all, and without direct stimulation, the man had been able to come. However, not only had said silver shot landed on Noah's stomach but also on Kurt's unsuspecting face. That night the boy had upgraded from a pearl necklace from back in the Hamptons to a full on facial. It was something he didn't quite know how he felt about, seeing as facial's were known to be one of the most degrading of sex acts, yet he knew Noah hadn't meant to do it. His seed had landed on Kurt's skin before they'd even realized it and even if angry sex could allow Noah to humiliate Kurt in that way, it wouldn't be done maliciously, it'd be done because it was hot, and since they respected each other as they did, they could get away with anything of the kinkiest nature.

Making quick but smooth work of detangling himself from Noah's arm, Kurt slipped out from the bed and headed into the en suite, where he showered and dried himself. He'd cleansed his face a little longer than usual, just to make sure that the scent of Noah's man milk was no longer lingering and he'd also allowed himself time to massage his muscles and body after last night's rompant activities, since after their animalistic highs, they'd made love all not long. They had retired to Noah's bedroom and it had been a time when love itself had driven them down the road of sex, not lust. Kurt could only smile at the memories of each session they'd had as he fixed his appearance in the mirror. Noah had been so tender with him, had held onto him so closely that Kurt couldn't help but revel in the man's need for him. They belonged to each other now.

Exiting the bathroom, Kurt re-entered Noah's room and looked around. He was wearing nothing. His clothes had been left in the living room and he couldn't go in there in fear of Anita, if she was around that is, clearing the half-eaten cake, flat champagne flutes and trampled rose metals that had been trodden and lain on throughout last night's shenanigans. With that, Kurt could only search the room for underwear and at least a tee shirt to clothe his naked torso in. He looked in the wardrobe, up and down and everywhere, until he found the neatly folded piles of underwear in a dresser drawer. They were all boxers, since it was the only thing Noah seemed to wear, or not. The man had said that he'd go around commando during lazy days in the penthouse, and now that Kurt was back, it would allow for 'easier surprises for spontaneous sex'.

Slipping on a pair of the smallest boxers he could find that would be able to cling onto his hips without the danger of falling off, Kurt now went on a mission to find a tee shirt, but before he could even start, he noticed one neatly slung over a chair in the corner of the room near the en suite door. Approaching it, Kurt noticed a pale note attached to the same Marilyn Monroe shirt Anita had snatched away from him all those weeks ago when he'd first visited Noah's penthouse. There it was, as if it were waiting for him, looking just fit for him with the actress's smiling face on the plain white tee with a red nose and a pair of geeky glasses printed over her eyes. It was a shirt that had been designed by Stella McCartney for Red Nose Day and Comic Relief back in March and as Kurt hesitated to touch it, his eyes were drawn back to the note.

_Hello Kurt,_

_I hope you and Noah had a wonderful time last night. It was a bit of a shock to see you at Radio City Music Hall, but a pleasant one and immediately afterwards, I insisted I helped Noah set up the penthouse for your arrival. I hope you liked what we did with the place. I have to admit it was hard to to find all the petals and candles at such quick notice but we managed in the end. Noah wanted it to be perfect for the both of you. You have no idea how happy he was to have you back, he couldn't stop smiling, and I couldn't either. I'm so glad your well, Kurt. I'm so glad you returned to Noah. The love he has for you are unfathomable._

_I want to apologize to you for everything I said you back when we first met, but not on a post it. Maybe next time I'm in the apartment we'll be able to talk, but for now know that I am sorry. In a sign of peace, I wanted to leave you the Marilyn Monroe tee shirt that I took from you. It was a gift given to Mrs. Puckerman for the donation they gave to Comic Relief, but she gave it to Noah who gave it to Quinn, but since she is no longer here, it now belongs to you. I'd figure you'd need something to wear after last night. Your clothes from yesterday have been washed and the living room, cleaned. Today, New York is open for you and Noah._

_Take care,_

_Anita_

Smiling to himself, Kurt picked up the tee shirt and slid it on, enjoying how the soft material caressed his skin as he snuck out the bedroom and out into the corridor. Noah had been telling the truth concerning Anita. The woman really did want to make amends and Kurt, although he had a history of keeping grudges against people who had wronged him, most notably his high school peers, he felt it the right thing to forgive Anita. As for what she'd mentioned in her note, the maid had indeed cleaned the apartment, or more specifically, the living room. The remains of the cake had been stored in the fridge, kept cool and ready for breakfast consumption. The petals had all been collected and put into a large glass bowl to resemble potpourri consisting entirely of roses and the Jo Malone candles had all been cleared with one or two now accommodating each room.

Settling himself on the couch, Kurt peeled the post it that was still attached to his tee and examined it once again. He'd liked the way Anita had ended the note by saying that today, the city was his and Noah's today. It was a set of words that had him wondering what they planned to do now. Back in Lima, Noah had mentioned romantic carriage rides in Central Park and Christmas kisses on the ice rink of the Rockefeller Centre, and now that they were together, Kurt didn't doubt for a second that Noah wasn't going to shout their love from every rooftop in Manhattan. They were officially dating now, and major changes in their relationship seemed to have simmered down to a simple 'boyfriend' tag on each other's hearts. Yet, for some reason or another, Kurt didn't think Noah was going to stop thinking of them both, and possibly, their future together.

Click! Looking up from Anita's post it, Kurt looked around to see Noah crouching down just a few meters away, a large Nixon camera positioned firmly in his hands. Gasping slightly at the slight intrusion but mostly at not having noticed Noah enter, Kurt watched as the man lowered the camera and winked at him. In response, Kurt couldn't help but smile, as well as drink in the sight of the way Noah was dressed. Similarly, to Kurt's half nude appearance, Noah only had on track suit bottoms and that was it, but it was all that was needed to be worn in the model's opinion. Noah looked so handsome and Kurt couldn't believe he'd been snagged by such a man. Noah Puckerman had been his teenage dream in high school and now said dream was immortalizing him on camera, taking picture after a picture of a simple Lima boy who couldn't believe his luck.

"You know, mister photographer, you're lucky I've had a shower and fixed myself up this morning, because if I hadn't, I'd be already grabbing your camera and smashing it. I nearly did it to several photographers the weeks they just wouldn't leave me alone, and believe me, they got the picture. Pun intended," smiled Kurt, deciding not to pose for Noah's pictures but to simply give off a care free vibe, a natural essence that could not be achieved without completely falling into a state of relaxation. It was very much like an actor told not to act and Kurt found it liberating, posing au naturel just for Noah.

"Kurt, you're a sight whatever way you look. You should know that."

"Typical. The photographers are always the charmers."

"And this camera would be missing out a lot on its favorite model if you smashed it."

"You know Noah, you've got model looks yourself. Maybe I should be snapping your shots for GQ."

"Nah, modeling has never been my thing," replied Noah. "I mean I've been in the odd magazine here and there. Teen Vogue was one of them but I never got into it. I just never thought it was that big a deal. They'd have me in hair and makeup for an hour, but I don't have any hair and I don't like wearing makeup. Then there was always the waiting when they'd change the angle of a reflector or adjust a soft box and there I always was wondering what the hell I was doing there when I could have been doing something so much more worthwhile, instead of frolicking in terrible clothes and acting like a posing narcissist."

"So what you're effectively saying is modeling is a waste of time? That I enjoy acting vain and conceited and that the clothes that are put on my back make me look ridiculous, even though I don't realize it because I'm clouded by my own self-absorption?" Questioned Kurt snidely, straightening up on the couch as his expression soured. "You know Noah, with an ignorant view like that, I'm surprised models have bothered to give you the time of day let alone sleep with you. Oh, it's all right to look at models, but no, you don't want to be one. You'd just be wasting your life thinking you're all that."

"No, no, no, oh shit, Kurt I didn't mean...," stumbled Noah, mentally kicking himself for being a jerk as he ran on over to Kurt before the boy made to leave. How could he have spoken so insensitively when Kurt was a model himself. The boy wasn't even vain. "Kurt, babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that, it's just... fuck. Modeling is fit for some people, just not for me. I'm flattered that you think I should give it a go, but to tell you the truth, I do prefer watching models. I prefer watching you. Here, take a look at yourself. Can't you see why I'd rather look at you? You're beautiful."

"Oh..." murmured Kurt, blinking in surprise as Noah took a hold of the camera that had been dangling from its strap around his neck and presented before him the screen. Photo after photo of Kurt in mid laugh, smiling naturally or just gazing back at the camera with nothing but his twinkling eyes as a fashion accessory flashed by as Noah scrolled through them all. They were pleasing. Very pleasing indeed. "You know, out of all the photoshoots and catwalk shows I've done, these are by far my favorite. No fancy clothes, no exotic makeup, no artificial sets, just me. That is the real me. You mind if we keep these?"

"Not at all, they're ours. I'm going to transfer them to my laptop and phone so that when I'm away studying at college, I can look at these and think of my hot babe back home, be like my pin up boy always welcoming me back from the business lecture battles," grinned Noah, Kurt returning the smile as he leaned down to place a soft morning kiss to the man's waiting lips. "Are you... still mad about what I said before, Kurt? About modeling? I know I shouldn't have generalized because you're not like that. You're not vain, whatever you wear looks good and if it weren't for modeling, I'd never have met you."

"Exactly, if I hadn't been accepted into a single one of those modeling agencies, I would have continued my work experience in that theater, and you and I never would have met, we would never have known each other, and I wouldn't be here. Strange isn't it," replied Kurt. "Anyway, although I am upset that you don't think particularly highly of my occupation, no matter how many times you cover it up by saying how 'beautiful' you think me, I do expect you to morally support me, Noah. I am new here after all and I could do with you staying by my side. It'll just make life that much easier."

"Sure I will, baby. It's only fair since these pictures here will help care for my... needs when I'm away."

"Noah! Please. They're not even erotic... wouldn't you want something, I don't know, sexier?"

"Oh Kurt, you have no idea how far I could go with pics. They're fucking hot."

"Well, if you're sure. I'll be happy to pose for some more with... a little less on."

"Fuck, I'm the luckiest man in the world," breathed Noah, watching as Kurt burst into a set of giggles before the boy leant down to rest his hands on the man's broad shoulders. Not many of Noah's girlfriends in the past would have done such a thing, but then Kurt was no girl. He was prepared to do things that made Noah's toes curl with excitement. "Tell you what, let's go out today. I want to give you that shopping spree on Fifth Avenue you mentioned back in Lima. Anything you want on that street and it's yours. I want to make up for always having barged through your doors when you could have busted my ass."

"No Noah, you don't have to do that. If you promise to let me open the door before you come in then that should be a reward in itself. I only mentioned a shopping spree because I was annoyed with you back then. Besides, the last time I was on Fifth, you bought me an expensive fragrance which I've not by any means finished," laughed Kurt. "Noah, baby, you don't have to feel the need to reward me all the time. I'm not here for material gain, I'm here because of you. No matter how many presents you buy me or even shower on me, they'll never be enough, because those gifts won't be you. All I want is you."

"I love you, Kurt Hummel," gushed Noah, removing his camera from around his neck and effortlessly picking Kurt up in a bridal hold. There he brought them both over to one of the many wall length windows where they both stared out onto the booming city below before looking back at each other affectionately. "If all you want is me then all you have is me, babe. To be honest, it was also an excuse to be seen out in public with you as we are. I just couldn't wait to walk down that street holding your hand, to let the whole world know that you were mine, that you were on my arm and no one else's."

"Come here you," smiled Kurt, taking hold of Noah's face and angling it to his for a tender kiss that had both of them sinking into, and although Kurt was supported in strong arms should he buckle, Noah had only his near trembling knees. "If it means that much to you Noah, then we can do that. I don't mind. You can now hold my hand on our walks through Central Park, you can kiss me over a meal at Mangia, and you can do whatever you like with me, but if you continue to reveal your sweet desires to me the way you are then I'll have no choice but to fall in love with you again and again and again."

"Not a bad roller-coaster ride if you ask me," chuckled Noah, stealing another heart-swelling smooch with his boy's tempting pout before leading them both back to his bedroom. This was it. He was going to be able to finally enter society with someone he'd kept in the dark all this time, someone he loved, and out of all the things his family had or could have, it had been this luxury that he'd not been able to afford, until now. "Come on baby, I want to get to the stores nice and early before the crowds come pouring in. I've got things to buy and one hell of a hot babe to walk down the street with."

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Four hours later and Noah and Kurt had left the penthouse and were strolling around Manhattan, their hands linked together as they enjoyed a day they'd both been waiting for for so long. It was the high from just being able to do anything they wanted together that made the sun shine brighter than it really was, and one of the best parts of it all was that it didn't seem to bother people at all. Of course they'd had the occasional looks and glances from passersby, recognizing their faces and confirming the rumors they'd all heard, that Noah Puckerman was really in a relationship with another boy. It had seemed to confuse many at first, given the man's womanizing past. Whispers were gushed behind hands and people would stare at the couple a little longer than usual but no one objected to them. After all, there wasn't anything to object to.

As a result of this reaction, which from New Yorkers only lasted a few minutes before returning to their own lives or to a sight that had a greater chance of at least shaking them out of their jadedness, both Noah and Kurt were free to live their day without any social problems what so ever. They'd gone to Mangia, taken their breakfast back to Central Park and eaten on the Great Lawn together, enjoying a Tasti D-Lite right afterwards to leave the greenery with frozen yoghurt on their tongues. Following that, Kurt had joined Noah on a shopping round that covered Bergdof Goodman, Barney's New York, Lord & Taylor as well as sightsee the National Historical Landmarks including the Empire State Building, the Rockefeller Center and St. Patrick's Cathedral, which Kurt had mentioned that out of all the churches in the city, this one would be the one he'd wed in.

However, immediately once the boy had mentioned the word 'wedding' in the passing comment, he'd felt a change in Noah's behavior. Of course, Kurt really hadn't meant anything by the statement, he'd just been attracted to the cathedral's architecture and its brilliant white shade of Tuckahoe Marble, a much more appealing looking church in his opinion than the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, the church Noah and Quinn had nearly wed in. Yet this didn't stop Noah from entering the cathedral and checking it out, taking in the interior and nodding in approval, as if he too wouldn't mind getting married in such a place. Kurt had later joked as they had neared the altar that it looked as if the man were church searching for his new wedding, but instead of receiving laughter or even a chuckle, Noah had given him a long look. A very long look.

Kurt hadn't known what to interpret from those hazel eyes that had dived into the deep blue pools of his own, but he'd decided, at least for now, not to give it much thought. Bringing it up to attention would only conjure up a conversation he was not ready for and not willing to discuss at all considering his personal views on marriage, and so he'd focused his attention on the things Noah was buying, including some of the more risqué items that Kurt would never dream of going out in public to purchase. Things of that nature were best left private and ordered anonymously online without embarrassment and hassle yet Noah being Noah had persuaded him to accompany him into stores the likes of Victoria's Secret and others to buy lace briefs, flavored lube, blind folds and yoga pants, as well as others that Kurt preferred to think of in the bedroom.

Now however, both Noah and Kurt had left Fifth Avenue in favor of Bloomingdale's on Third. Kurt was impressed that Noah was still shopping considering the man hardly ever did and had a less than enthusiastic attitude towards it. What he was shopping for though at this point, eluded the boy. It could range from anything from electronics to jewelry, often checking out the luxury ring selections these affluent department stores would have and although Noah had given out the excuse of wanting to buy his mother something nice for what she'd done for his birthday, Kurt knew it was lie. Emily Puckerman was a former beauty queen. If she wanted a ring, she'd get it herself. That is if she hadn't already a version of them all from her successful reign in the pageantry circuit. Yes, Noah was looking for a ring, and Kurt had an idea who it was for.

Standing in the furniture department of Bloomingdale's, looking over the wonderful Wedgewood pottery that was lining the shelves, along with intricate Lalique glass designs and beautiful Barracat crystal creations, Kurt wondered through the displays. He'd left Noah in the electronics department where the man had approached a Bang & Olufsen salesman concerning the BeoLab fifteen and sixteen loudspeakers that what he claimed 'unleashed a room's full creative potential with the art of hidden sound'. It had served to make Kurt frown and he had excused himself to further explore the store. He was glad he'd wondered off because everything before him sparkled. Palatial chandeliers, crystal blown blue horses, everything, including the hefty price tags that had been and fittingly glittered and glossed for Kurt to marvel at until a voice sounded from behind.

"Hey Kurt."

"Huh? Oh, Carlson, hi! Hey, what are you doing here?!"

"I'm looking around for a present for Carmen. You know her party's coming up soon."

"What? She's having party? I didn't know about this."

"Yeah, it's later on this week. Didn't she tell you?" Asked Carlson, Kurt shaking his head as he struggled to remember if he'd heard about this, but then again, he'd been home for two weeks so that was why. "She said she'd left so many messages on your answering machine that she can recite word for word your funny answering message without even thinking it. Lola and I probably could too since we've all been trying to reach you but you've never been home. We've wanted to know how you've been since your photoshoot accident. How are you, Kurt? Are you okay? What happened?"

"Don't worry Carlson, I'm well, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not to talk about what happened that day here in Bloomingdale's," smiled Kurt apologetically, Carlson nodding in agreement as they both looked around. When Kurt returned his gaze to his friend, he was pleased to know that he was well and healthy. He hadn't changed, still cute, but Kurt was still surprised that he'd bumped into him. "All I am willing to say here is that I've recovered from it, I returned to my home in Lima for two weeks once I was discharged from hospital and I came back two days ago to perform at Noah's birthday gala."

"Birthday gala? Oh yeah, he turned twenty-one yesterday didn't he. I forgot about that. Not that I'd remember such a thing, but yeah, that's cool," nodded Carlson, Kurt returning the smile as they both began to stroll around the department, each of them stopping occasionally to view the different sets of furniture on sale. Kurt didn't think Carlson was shopping for expensive furniture he couldn't afford. He imagined it was solely to talk to him. "So you're saying you actually performed for Puckerman? I wouldn't have thought they'd invite you to do that seeing as, you know, you'd nearly drowned or something."

"Actually, I was more of a birthday surprise, the popping out of the cake king of thing, but not literally that. I sang for him," replied Kurt, giggling as he began to imagine coming out of a cake naked whilst Noah licked him down to the very last dab of fondant. Who knows, maybe he'd do that next year. "See I got in contact with one of Noah's friends who was organizing the finale and through him I was able to secure a place in the show. Noah had no idea I was doing this, hence why it was a surprise, but yeah. You should have seen his face, he was not expecting me at all."

"Wow, what did you sing?"

"Just Happy Birthday, nothing big."

"Really? Couldn't they have asked you to sing a better song?"

"I suppose, but I wanted to sing it. It was only appropriate."

"I guess. It'd be funny if you'd sung it like Marilyn Monroe. You didn't did you?" Asked Carlson, looking intently back at Kurt who shook his head defiantly only to end up nodding his head. Carlson's eyes widened before he burst out into a fit of hysterics, the cashier by a nearby till eyeing them in annoyance as Kurt, giggling, calmed his now chuckling friend. "God Kurt, you're a legend, you know that. I bet Puckerman couldn't keep his hands off you afterwards. Speaking of which, are you guys back together now? I know he didn't marry that Fabray girl but does he know of you and Joshua?"

"He does, yes. I've been meaning to talk to Joshua ever since I came back, but ever since I did, everything's been not stop doing this doing that. Don't worry though, I will get round to it because it's really not fair on him. He did save my life after all. I owe him everything," answered Kurt, taking a mental note to call Joshua immediately once he'd returned to his apartment. Actually he'd invite him over. it was the right thing to do and it was the least Joshua deserved. "Anyway, enough about me. How have you been? How are the girls? Is your new director better than Gordon or worse?"

"She's a woman actually, Mavis, and she's so much cooler than Gordon was. I'd say not as experienced but she's got the stuff. Makes me kind of sad that I'm leaving after we do Wicked because I auditioned for Angelo from Measure for Measure at the Richard Rodgers Theater on Broadway and I got it," smiled Carlson, chuckling as Kurt's mouth gaped before squealing in delight, embracing him tightly as the man laughed. "Thanks, Kurt. Carmen and Lola are good. They've both got some news as well, but I'll let them tell you themselves at the party, which I hope you're coming to. It's this Friday night."

"I'll be there, and don't worry about the gift buying. I'll buy Carmen something from the both of us. I can tell you're at loss at what to get," giggled Kurt, Carlson about to object before giving up and offering the boy a thankful smile. Turning around, Kurt glanced about until he caught sight of a mink blanket placed neatly on a couch. "Ooh, maybe she'll like this... actually no. I remembered she said she hated fur, even if was faux because she claimed that wearing 'a cutting edge hairy carcass from the steel traps of wintery Russia' just made her want to puke, so I think we'll stay well clear of that."

"Well we've got time, Doll face. You here alone or-"

"No, I'm here with Noah actually. He had to get some shopping done."

"So why aren't you with him?"

"Because he's the boring parent and I'm his kid who likes to run off. I'm bad."

"Well I don't want to keep you from him; he's probably looking for you. That and we should probably leave anyway. That cashier over there is giving us the evils," whispered Carlson, Kurt subtly glancing at the cashier who was indeed fixing both of them with an irritated gaze, one so authoritative it really did make Kurt feel like a child. However, as they made to speed walk out, Carlson turned around and belted out his best Shakespearean voice to the cashier's shock. "Fear not, rash wanton with eyes of damask death! We leave thy kingdom of mink carcass to venture in lands away from thy venomous gaze!"

"Carlson! You just called her a brazen slut, what if she knows Shakespeare?" Hissed Kurt, wrenching his friend away from the entrance and out in the hall. Yet despite the noisy sound of the many escalators and bustling shoppers all around, nothing could drown out the uncontrollable laughter that had burst out on the scene. The expression on the cashier's gawping face had ignited every single humorous fuze within both Kurt and Carlson's bodies and as they descended onto the ground floor, their smiles still rich in chuckles, they were silenced as now standing before them was Noah. "Oh... hey honey."

"Baby," replied Noah, Kurt frowning at the way the man was eying both him and Carlson as if he'd just caught them making out in the dressing room of a children's store. It made the boy very uncomfortable and soon enough, Kurt began to take note of jealousy rising in Noah like bile. His hands were clenching around his crackling shopping bags, his shoulders were tensing and the look in his hazel eyes persuaded Kurt to rush on over to his side and allow the man to wrap an arm around his waist protectively. Thankfully, it seemed to appease Noah and Kurt blew out a quiet sigh of relief. "So, what did you get up with..."

"Carlson, the name's Carlson, Mr. Pucker-" answered Carlson but was soon stopped in mid speech when Kurt shook his head violently, a 'no' shaped onto his lips as his eyes bulged wide. The man didn't know what the big deal was but judging by the way Puckerman was eyeing him very much as the cashier had done earlier, he relented. "We bumped into each other in the furniture department and um, caught up on how we were and how everything was going. Actually, Kurt told me about how he sang for you at your gala yesterday. I wish I could have seen him and I know it's bit late, but Happy Birthday, man."

"Yes, I was telling Carlson about the way I sang it. He seemed to think it was pretty funny," giggled Kurt, trying desperately to ease the tension that was swamping them all. Poor Carlson looked as if he was being scolded by the headmaster and Kurt was not liking it one bit. He could understand why Noah would get jealous of Joshua, that was understandable, but his friends? Kurt feared this might be a regular occurrence. "Anyway, it was great seeing you Carlson. You don't have to hang around here anymore; I'll get us the present. Just remember to drop by mine before the party so you can sign the card."

"Will do. The thing starts at seven at Nobu so how about six-thirty?"

"Great. I'll see you then."

"Later, Doll face."

"Fare thee well, Angelo."

"Fare thee what? Since when do you speak Shakespearean?" Asked Noah, Kurt waving at his departing friend as the boy turned to lay his frosted eyes on the man. Noah's appearance was now returning to the way it was. His fingers were no longer digging trenches into Kurt's sides, his body was now lax and free and the mint green specs in his eyes didn't look as if they were giant fire balls, but as they had been. Yet all this just made to anger Kurt. He really had to face the man on this. It was ridiculous. "Kurt, I really rather you didn't wonder off. It's as if you planned on meeting him here or something."

"And what if I did? Can't I hang out with my friends? Actually, scratch that. Can't I hang out with my male friends like Carlson? Or are you going to scare them off so that I can relive my high school days where I had no boys as friends?" Shot Kurt angrily. "Noah look, I know you're protective of me and you care about who I'm with, but if you continue the way you are, you're just going to turn out like my dad, who enforced a curfew of six o'clock and a light's out rule of nine o'clock, rules that prevented me from... like... partying at my peer's houses... not that I was ever invited to them, but you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, Kurt. Fuck. It's just that this was our day, out first full day out together as a couple and I just wanted you all to myself," murmured Noah apologetically, Kurt huffing as he relented to listen to a man who might as well of marked his territory but peeing on him as they did in the wild. Not a nice picture. "I know I keep on saying you're mine this, you're mine that. It makes it sound as if I fucking own you, as if you're my sex slave, which you're not, no matter how hot that sounds. It's because you only came back to me last night and I can't bear to see you with other men less you... leave me again."

"Leave you again? Noah, I'm not going to leave you again. You have to stop thinking that. They're thoughts that are only going to make it harder to trust me. You do trust me, right?" Asked Kurt as Noah nodded quickly. "Good. Besides, I guess I've grown fond of your co-dependent like attachment to me. I find it adorable how you're jealous of Carlson, who is only the first friend I made here and who's been with me through the good times and the bad. You needn't see him as a threat. He's not Angelo in real life, he has no intention of stealing me away from you. He's straight."

"Everyone thought I was straight and look how well that turned out, and I don't care how many times you say he likes pussy, actors never fully do. I'm telling you now, your Carlson friend would have no problem kissing you if he were asked... not that I'd let him," replied Noah, growling slightly at the thought as he brought Kurt closer into and him and nuzzled the boy's neck with his nose. It was then that he could feel Kurt's pulse points, little baby thumps that were pumping out a scent he knew all too well. God, it made his mouth water. "Hmm babe, you smell nice. You wearing the Creed fragrance I got you?"

"I am. I'm using it to attract men whilst I'm away from you, because you know Noah, another thing about your jealousy is that it's a real turn on. It makes me want to blow you behind a mannequin, makes me want to grab onto a fainting couch so tightly I rip out the upholstery as you beat me off, and it makes me want to spread these very legs for you right here, right now," cooed Kurt softly, his breath coming out hot and moist on Noah's ear so that as the boy made to lick away the beads of sweat already forming, Noah whimpered. He was so hard, it hurt. "But I'm no whore, so we're not doing that."

"W-what? No babe, let's do that. You can't say that to me and expect me not to want to do that. Puckzilla's already leaking his silver solution down there," begged Noah pleadingly, his hands tightening around Kurt as the boy looked back at him as if to say a firm 'no', but after catching sight of a perfectly pitched tent down below, he relented with a nod accompanied with a cheeky smile. Who knew if they were going to be thrown out of Bloomingdale's forever if they were caught but the idea of sex on a thousand dollar armless chair was so tempting. "Fuck yeah, Kurt. Come on, let's find a place."

As both of them went in search of the ideal room and piece of furniture to fornicate on, Noah was reminded of his high school days. Back then, he'd always had the mentality of a promiscuous stud with a 'wham, bam, thank you mam' attitude, one that had lead to most of the desks creaking and tables tottering from sessions of lip glossed make outs and skirt lifting sex. Yet now he was a paranoid and insecure man in love who scared away his lover's friends just because deep down he'd always thought Kurt to be too good to be true and therefore too good for him. What was happening to him? He didn't want to be the jealous, clingy boyfriend. He wanted to be the smooth talking sex stud he once was, but then that hadn't been the man Kurt had fallen in love with. He'd fallen for Noah, not Puck, and if Noah treated Kurt like the last jewel in existence, so be it.


	23. The Three Men

Sitting himself down at the long table strewn with cutlery and napkins waiting to be used, Kurt made himself comfortable as the rest of Carmen's entourage seated themselves busily around her. They had arrived and accepted their reservations at the Nobu Restaurant on 40 West 57th Street and going by everything he was seeing within the place, Kurt could believe Carmen when she'd said that she'd had to book five weeks in advance to be guaranteed seating for a party her size. For Nobu was high class all the way. The restaurant chain was very popular with the wealthy crowd as well as with celebrities. Kurt had often heard that they wouldn't often look at the menu in favor of requesting the waiters 'surprise' them with something, asking "ooh, what's this?" when they'd been delivered their food. It was one real quirky take on dining.

Continuing to look around as everyone picked up their menus and scoured the hot and cold dishes, the donburi and the chef's choice, Kurt's artistic mind widened as he took in his impressive surroundings. Nobu New York's design by architect David Rockwell evoked the beauty of the Japanese countryside with its natural textures, birch trees, wood floors and a wall made of river stones, as well as maintaining energy and excitement that pulsed through the room, creating a surreal effect. Kurt had read before coming that the restaurant had received three stars from the New York Times and a Michelin star to top it all off. The restaurant's perennial popularity and devoted following was a tribute to Nobu putting his own spin on traditional Japanese cooking, and as Kurt sniffed the delectable air, he knew that Mangia was in for some stiff competition.

Bringing his head back down to his menu and checking out what little fancies were going to make his belly button pop out tonight, Kurt decided on a wide range of sushi, sushami and rolls from Salmon Skin to Shrimp Tempura, to Soft Shell Crab to Spicy Bigeye Tuna, and to finally Bluefin Toro and Baby Abalone. It might seem much, but hey, they were here to celebrate. It had turned out that Carmen, very much like Carlson, was leaving the Monarch Theater after its winter show for a more prestigious production of Evita on Broadway. They all knew that their version of Wicked wasn't going to be any less than amateurish since they'd had a change of directors in the middle of its rehearsals, messing everything up, but no way did that act as a dampener to both Carmen and Carlson. They'd soon be leaving that dank and dismal theater. Finally!

As for Lola, it seemed her big break had yet to come along, but everyone was rooting for her. No way was she not going to end up in sold out comedies with the rare comedic talent she possessed. It was something many didn't have, and although Kurt had been said that his sarcasm on stage could bring out laughs from all the way from the back row, he didn't believe he'd have what Lola had. All he wanted to do was act, sing and dance, that and model. It was all performance in the end, yet the need to return to the stage was growing. Ever since Radio City Music Hall, his love for musical theater had flickered back to life, very much how a candle flickered back into a flame under the influence of magic. It had been there lying dormant, becoming a back seat passenger to modeling and it only served to make Kurt ponder to himself.  _Hmm..._

At the sound of the waiter coming to take their orders, Kurt lifted his eyes from his menu and did a quick sweep of everyone around the long wooden table. There were some people he recognized as fellow actors and colleges from the Monarch Theatre as well as others Kurt didn't know. Carlson was sitting next to him, Lola to his left and Carmen next to her, yet the person that seemed to catch Kurt's eye was Joshua, who was sitting right opposite him. The boy had been shocked to see the man as part of the entourage, but after quietly consulting Carmen about it, she'd revealed that after one of her own friends had called in sick at the last minute, Carlson himself had invited Joshua. Whether that was to make it easier for Kurt and him to talk, the model didn't know. It was very inappropriate, yes, but he supposed Carlson did have good intentions.

"Hey Kurt? Thanks again for going out of your way to get Carmen that present, it was very cool of you," thanked Carlson, Kurt glancing at him with a smile before turning in his chair to face his friend. It really hadn't been that much of a problem to find a suitable present for the red headed party girl. In fact, he hadn't had to buy one in the end. He'd simply decided to gift Carmen with all the high-end skin care products he'd been given through modeling that he'd never used. He had enough cleansers, toners and moisturizers as it was. Anymore and he'd drown. "Want me to return the favor, and I'll do it."

"You can make sure I get a front row seat to your Measure for Measure performance in the spring, as well as VIP backstage passes to make sure I get a hand shake from Mr. Angelo himself," smiled Kurt. "Look, Carlson, about what happened in Bloomingdale's the other day; I didn't know that Noah was going to behave the way he did. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable and I did have a talk with him once you'd left. He's just a little sensitive at the moment. He has this crazy notion in his head that every guy I talk to is going to steal me away from him, regardless of their sexuality."

"It's okay Kurt, it's alright. I'm fine. To tell you the truth it wasn't so much that it was uncomfortable as it was awkward, because seriously, with the evils Puckerman was giving me? Let's just say I wouldn't want to play against him at one of his college football games," chuckled Carlson. "Besides, I guess it would have been weird not for him to be that way around you after your accident, after Joshua and after everything else that's happened to you. I have to say Kurt, that not once have I met someone who has had so much drama in so little time. Everything seems to be happening to you."

"I know, right? I don't ask for it to come my way, it just does," sighed Kurt, picking up his fork and stroking it ever so lightly along the blade of his knife. Drama had been with him earlier on today before Carlson had come round to sign the present card. He'd been on the phone to Noah, and although the man had wished he'd have a good time, the slight discomfort was still lingering in his tonality. Kurt knew in time it would leave, but for now, he'd have to pass it off as loving concern. "Anyway, I've had a talk to Noah about this jealousy problem he's having and he seems to be calming down from it."

"I really don't know why he'd get jealous of me, Doll face. I mean, unless he knows about that one time I kissed you the first time we met, I don't think he has anything to worry about," chuckled Carlson, Kurt briefly smiling before glancing his eyes away before immediately his sight fell on Joshua. If Bloomingdale's had been awkward, this was so much worse, but yet Kurt didn't allow that as a social obstacle now. That would just acknowledge that there was tension, and so with an intake of breath, Kurt smiled at Joshua. "Kurt, if there should be anyone he should get jealous of, it should be Joshua, right?"

"Speaking of Joshua, not that it's not nice to see him again, but did you really have to invite him, Carlson? I really would have preferred to talk to him in private instead of, you know, at a dinner where everyone now knows our business," hissed Kurt. "I'm affectively the cruel one because I've shunned aside the man who saved me from drowning in favor of one who just walked onto the scene. It looks bad. In fact, I'm surprised Joshua accepted to come. I'm shocked how he can sit there and not look at me with contempt whilst at the same time accuse me of being ungrateful. This was such a bad idea."

"Kurt, chill. I'm sorry about inviting him. I should have told you, but look, Joshua's not doing those things is he?"

"That's because he's a good person, someone who deserves to be treated with more respect than I've shown him."

"Well you'll soon talk to him and you'll have all this figured out."

"Only if Noah's irrationality hasn't already peaked and he has undercover spies here."

"Kurt, now you're being irrational. I know Puckerman is worried about you, but you can't let his insecurities rub off on you like this. You're here to eat and have fun, not suspect if you're being spied on," soothed Carlson. "But from what I've seen Kurt, you're everything to Puckerman. It's so obvious. He's crazy in love with you. I bet you're as important to him as his family and you know what happened when a member of his family died. He lost his dad when he was only a wee kid, and it broke him, so how do you think he felt when you had your accident? Who do you think it reminded him of?"

"Oh my God... oh my God, I completely forgot about his dad," moaned Kurt, leaning forward and hiding his face in his hands. "You know, no one speaks of the man near Noah and he doesn't talk about him himself. Through all this drama, I hardly ever hear his father get mentioned so I guess I forgot about him, but it explains so much, you know? I remember when I first saw the newsreel of his death on the TV. I was around seven or eight at the time, before I knew who the Puckerman's were, but yeah, my mom had just asked me to set the table and it flashed on the screen and I couldn't look away."

"How could you not look away from that newsreel, Kurt? I'm pretty sure that at seven or eight, the content you saw on that screen was likely the first time you ever saw gore," replied Carlson as Kurt nodded his head, his memories of that evening now flooding back to him. Never, not once at that point in his life had he ever seen so much blood. That's all he had seen. Blood. "I saw it too but they really should have censored it. I mean, what the hell kind of car crash must leave your car in that condition? It might as well have been Diana 2.0 because that SUV was like properly, smashed, mangled and disfigured."

"Well, it's not so much the car as it was the sheer amount of blood everywhere. It was splattered across the broken glass and all over the cracked black paint," shivered Kurt, his face wincing painfully. "I think, now I don't know this for sure, but I think there had been a car carrier in front of them, and the driver of said carrier must of misjudged the height of the bridge ahead because he collided head on with it. In the end, when it did, the cars came loose from the carrier, they fell down on the road below and unfortunately, Thomas Puckerman was in the SUV the first car plummeted down onto. It's horrible, isn't it?"

"It's the sort of thing you see in a Final Destination movie or something. Didn't they call it a freak accident?" Asked Carlson curiously, Kurt leaning back in his chair and covering his mouth with his hands as he stared in sorrow at the table. Not only had Thomas Puckerman died instantly in the crash, but by the time he'd been cut out of the crushed vehicle, he'd been unrecognizable. His body had been mutilated beyond recognition, his face gone. Some believed he'd been beheaded, others that his bones had been broken down into nothing but dust amidst his blood. In the end, there had been nothing left of not only a man, a leader of a conglomerate empire he'd founded and helped build into what it was today, but a man of who's family had been severely struck, left to live out his legacy, forever bound to their grief.

"My poor, poor Noah. My poor baby," whispered Kurt, resting his chin in his hands as they adopted a position of prayer. No parent should have to bury their child, but no child should have to have their parent die in such a horrible way. A year after Thomas Puckerman's accident, Kurt's mother had died from breast cancer. The doctors had discovered her tumor too late and it had only been a matter of time before she too had left this world. In this moment, Kurt could relate to Noah's pain on such a level, he just wanted to run from the restaurant and go to him, to hold him and to cry for him. He felt like crying.

"Kurt, are you alright?" Asked Carlson worriedly, Kurt quickly nodding his head as he grabbed his napkin and dabbed at his watering eyes. Once putting it down, he leaned into Carlson and wrapped his arms around him. He needed someone to hold on to. He needed comfort. "Now we know why Puckerman's like the way he is, Doll face. He fears loss. He fears the pain it brings. If he'd married Quinn, I'm betting he would have only lasted a couple months before he'd try to return to you, but if you'd died in your accident, I really don't think he would have survived. I think... I think he would have taken his own life."

"Please don't say that, Carlson... please..." begged Kurt, wincing at the man's words, partly because he hadn't expected to hear to such a thing but mostly because he now believed them to be true. What if he had drowned? What if Joshua hadn't reached him time? Would Noah really have done something reckless? Kurt didn't want to think of the man going over to the road and flinging himself into a speeding vehicle or returning to his apartment, taking out a revolver and shooting himself in the head, for it's exactly what Noah would have done, and as Kurt came to realize this, tears welled in his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean to say that, it's just; both you guys seem so vulnerable. You've both lost a parent, you've both suffered because of it and it was just a matter of time until we found out who is emotionally stronger... you, Doll face," reassured Carlson. "Puckerman may have the muscles, he may come across as the football playing, bicep bulging, manly man in your relationship but all he is inside is a scared little boy crying out for his father. Whilst with you, you look like a fragile little thing wishing to be rescued, but in fact, you're upbringing has made you stronger as a person. So much stronger."

"Really? I don't think it was particularly strong of me to get drunk at my photo shoot. I did not go easy on the cider that day," scoffed Kurt, a dry and humorless laugh escaping from his lips as he pulled away from Carlson and leaned back in his chair. Yet even though he had drank that day, he'd come to realize through his intoxicated eyes that life was very beautiful. No matter how hard it was to survive, it was still beautiful. Theo's death in a way had cemented that in his mind forever, like an epiphany, something he'd longed for ever since he'd been that little boy beside his mother's death bed.

Life back then had been a battle no child should have to suffer through. He'd lost someone dear to him, only to be followed up by the bullying and the constant torment of his peers regarding his sexuality, and he'd suffered heartbreak when he'd fallen in love for the first time. He'd always known life to have a purpose, that's what his mother had used to say, but he'd always wondered what purpose he himself was fulfilling. Back then, it seemed as though he had no use for himself. Always in his room, in his own company, cut off from the unfriendly world outside. Now that Kurt came to think of it, Carlson was right. He had wanted to be rescued, and he had been. Literally. The lake could have claimed his life. Noah could have claimed his own because of it, but Kurt was here now, more emotionally stable than ever and appreciating life for all its beauty.

"Carlson?"

"Yeah, Kurt?"

"Do you think I've changed since we first met? For the better?"

"Sure you have, Doll face. I mean you're still you, but I think the love of a certain Puckerman may have done something."

"You know, I was first in love with Noah a long time before I met him," revealed Kurt, Carlson turning to look at him in surprise as the boy nodded in response. "I was thirteen and I thought him the handsomest boy I'd ever seen, and even though back then I believed him to be straight and that in the end I was only going to get myself hurt, which I did, I still fell for him. Mind you, it wasn't the same kind of love as I have for him now. It was more like extreme puppy love, young love, something like that. I didn't know what love was so I was never able to define it, but yes, I was young, stupid and in love."

"Wow, it must have been awkward when you first met him," chuckled Carlson, Kurt smiling as he again nodded in response. When he'd first Noah at the Padova Pad, the feelings he'd had were long gone, but for him, the whole thing had been a little tense. He had still thought the man was handsome as hell, but he'd known what would happen if he ever let himself get lost in those hazel eyes again. It was why he hadn't wanted to meet Noah, but yet still have the man take notice of him, strange as that sounded. "So how did you know you'd fallen in love with Puckerman again? Was it hard to find out or what?"

"You know, I thought I'd have an inner debate with myself if it ever happened again. I knew I was feeling what I'd felt before, but like I said, this felt so much more powerful, as if it were more potent than last time round," replied Kurt. "Before I told Noah I loved him, I'd said he needed to give me time. See by then, he already loved me and he was upset that I didn't feel the same way, which I didn't think I did, but a few hours later, I said I loved him and I knew that it was true. Plus, I will always remember his reaction. His face broke out into a smile so wide; a coat hanger could have fit in there."

"Well, next time your man starts to get even the tiniest bit jealous, anxious or insecure, tell him you love him, because I have a feeling he's going to be a sucker for that line," grinned Carlson as Kurt made a mental note to ring Noah after tonight's dinner and tell him just that. He had to do it anyway. His boyfriend had asked him to call once he'd finsihed, had said that he wanted him to return to the penthouse because he missed him. Noah missed him. He missed him, he missed him, he missed him. Oh, it made Kurt's insides turn to jelly. "And make sure he says he loves you too, Doll face. You're someone to love."

"Oh, don't worry about Noah doing that, Carlson. He says that to me all the time," smiled Kurt, catching a glimpse of the waiter coming back with their drinks, followed by their various plates of delicious food. Yet the distraction of raw fish atop sticky cold rice didn't prevent Kurt from revealing something he suspected. "Noah has so much love to give. He really does, Carlson. He treats me like I'm everything to him, he's so loving, and I don't know this for sure, I'm only guessing, but I think he's going to ask me to move in with him soon, I can almost feel it."

"Really? Oh, that's great, Kurt! I would say it's a bit soon but since you and him, you know, got more than acquainted during his engagement, and you're both in love, that's great," congratulated Carlson, leaning over hug Kurt before kissing him on the cheek. However, as he pulled away, he noticed that Kurt, instead of being happy or showing any real sign of a positive reaction to speak of, looked more nervous then when he was before a run way show. His smile was played, his fingers entwined, and his left leg was moving up and down rapidly. "What? What is it, Kurt? Don't you want to move in with him?"

"It's not that, Carlson. I mean, I don't mind moving in with him. His penthouse is more than big enough for the both of us, and waking up next to him would make me happy, it's just... there's something else," answered Kurt uneasily. "The day you and I met in Bloomingdale's, Noah and I had gone around town. We'd seen St. Paul's Cathedral and I said if I ever had to marry, I'd marry there, though once I said that, Noah gave me a look and before I know it, he's going around casually checking out rings from all the luxury jewelers. I asked him why, he said it was for his mom, but I knew he was lying."

"You mean... you mean you think he wants to ask you to marry him?" asked Carlson incredulously, his eyes bulging and mouth gaping as Kurt bit his lip and observed him, his leg still going up and down restlessly. The boy didn't want to get married. He was only nineteen. He hadn't intended to give away signs for such a thing. It was only a passing comment! Now he was dreading the next time he saw Noah. He was going to have tell him all of this, and Noah was going to get upset and Kurt was going to feel bad, and it was going to ruin everything. "Kurt, if you don't want to marry him, you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, but... I don't know. Maybe he has got it in his mind to marry me, but perhaps he's not going to do it until he graduates from Harvard or until he's asked me to move in. He's so unpredictable sometimes," replied Kurt, his mind imagining his possible wedding day. With his hand, Noah would lift his sorrows. Kurt's cup would never empty for Noah would be his wine. With a candle, Noah would light his way through darkness and with a ring, he would ask Kurt to be his. The vows of the church, vows of marriage. "I'll just have to talk to him. I'm seeing him tonight, so I'll see how it goes."

"Hey everyone!" Announced Lola, Kurt blinking from the sudden shift in volume as he turned to look at the blonde beside him. It looked as if she were preparing to give a toast going by the way she was tapping her spoon against her crystal glass, but when she didn't stand up once everyone had their attention on her, he thought not. However, he was grateful for the distraction. He needed to either listen to use or start cramming sushi down his throat pronto. "I've got a little game we can all play. Lick your finger and then rub the rim of the glass. It should make your glasses sing."

"That doesn't actually happen does it?" Asked Carmen, frowning at Lola as the girl nodded her head. It did indeed happen as Kurt remembered how he'd used to do it when he was younger. He'd line up a whole row of glasses and make them sing like a choir of crystal voices. The sound would echo like in a stone church around his kitchen and it would sometimes drive his father mad. That and placing raspberries on his fingers and eating them one by one, blowing bubbles everywhere in the house and finally drawing little faces on his hands and speaking only through them. He'd been so carefree back then.

"This takes me back," smiled Kurt, watching as everyone did what Lola said before doing it himself. He'd learned in school that as your finger moved along the rim, it alternately slipped and stuck to the rim, just like a violin bow slipped and stuck as it moved across a violin string. It produced the vibration patterns with its own special natural frequency for that glass. Changing the speed or pressure one used with your finger could make the sound louder or softer and make the glass vibrate and sing more easily or not, but it didn't change the vibration frequency. For Kurt, he could listen to their songs all night long.

The evening continued in a festive spirit. Kurt had been tempted to order another dish of sushi and sashami considering he'd ravaged them all in a carnivorous manner, but he'd had to move on to his main course in which he'd chosen a Kumamoto Oysters with Maui Onion Salsa if he'd wanted to save some room with it. For dessert, he'd ordered a slice of Coconut Cake, which had consisted of coconut sponge, milk chocolate coconut cremoso, coconut stracciatella mousse and Thai tea gelato to top it all off. It had been divine. However, he'd originally decided against any type of dessert, thinking the calorie intake might go a little overboard, but it was Carmen's party. Everyone else was splashing themselves out on any edible confectionary they ordered on the menu with Carslon being the ultimate food guzzler. As a result, Kurt could only laugh.

When the food had all been eaten and the bill had been paid by everyone except for Carmen, instead of leaving the restaurant, they'd decided to chat and talk amongst themselves. Since Carmen had booked the party as a private event until they wished to leave by their own accord, they were all situated in a secluded part of the restaurant known as the Back Room. Curtains had been drawn to create a private ambience, for which there was no sound barrier, and the furniture in the room had had to be dictated to the space available for everyone, but since there was only around twenty to twenty-five people at the event, not much had had to be removed. For Kurt, it made for quite a comfortable place to relax as the hum of conversation filled the room. Everyone was having a good time and all he could feel like doing was taking a nap in it all.

However, before he could even begin to fathom closing his eyes, Carmen had asked to swap with Lola so she could sit next to him and talk to him about that had happened over the past few weeks. Kurt had had no choice to tell his friends exactly what had had prior to the accident, the accident itself, to what had happened afterwards, all the way up to Noah's birthday celebrations. He didn't think he'd need to let them in on Noah's hints of marriage, but what he'd said was already plenty for them all to digest as well as their food when he'd finished. Upon hearing of Joshua's heroism, Carmen had declared a toast leaving everyone clapping in the wake of a blushing man who didn't know what to do but fiddle with his hands and look on over at Kurt with a smile that the boy returned gratefully. Now there was no awkwardness left dwindling. Just unmade peace.

Soon after, Carmen had returned to the topic of Noah. Even though she was a little tipsy from the amount of champagne she had consumed, she had instructed Kurt to no longer alienate them when it came to his relationship problems and that he should not allow for Noah's co-dependency to get in the way of other projects he might want to have a go at, for example, focusing on furthering his modeling career and traveling abroad to places like Europe and Asia, or if he was still interested, to re-audition for NYADA. All three of them wanted to see their baby boy Kurt to not just restrict himself just because Noah was protective of him, but to go out and do what he himself wanted. To Kurt, they made it sound as if Noah was an anchor, keeping him down, but he wasn't. The man would do anything to make him happy. Anything.

Kurt knew that Noah just needed time. Hopefully, it wouldn't take that long. Within a couple months, he'd be back to the swaggering man of sex that would have Kurt jealous if he even checked out a girl or some other twink. Noah would be fully secure in their relationship, he'd have no doubts and he would trust that Kurt would stay faithful, wouldn't go on any perilous photo shoots and would love him unconditionally, for the man was nothing but a big muscly teddy bear in Kurt's eyes. The more you squeezed and cuddled him, the more love he'd dispense like buttercream frosting freshly squirted from an icing pipe bag. Ooh, it made Kurt squirm in delight as he thought of his adorable Noah in his penthouse atop a high sky castle. Now he couldn't wait to return to him. Kurt couldn't wait to surprise the man at the door with a kiss. He just couldn't wait...

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Kurt and Lola ran as fast as they could down the Manhattan Street, the wind coursing through their hair like a cold blow dryer and their eyes constantly on the lookout for pedestrians that they could accidently bowl straight into the road, cars that could be left angrily honking in their wake and the two men chasing after them, all four young, happy and beautiful souls laughing their heads off. It was around midnight and they had all just left Nobu restaurant. They'd stayed there talking until the place had closed and most of the others including Carmen herself had caught cabs home, that's if they could afford a cab. It was suspected that their fares for the ride home may have been sacrificed for more drinks and light and spicy noted Sake or regrettable splurges on Soy Caramelized Bananas, Candied Pecans and Malaga Ice Cream.

Now, however, Kurt was running as fast as he could from both Carlson and Joshua as they light heartedly pelted after him and Lola. The boy had intended to walk back to Noah's penthouse, to return to his boyfriend and to spend the night there, but he hadn't known the dinner was going to end this late. When he'd rung Noah once they'd finished, his poor boyfriend had been asleep, or had just fallen asleep from waiting for him on the couch and at this Kurt had felt guilty. Noah had mentioned that he'd had to do revision for his finals this semester and Kurt knew all too well how exhausting it all could be on one's brain. In the end, Kurt had suggested he stay at his own place for tonight and that he'd come by tomorrow if he wasn't too hungover or dopey enough to get out of bed. He already had a problem falling out of it.

Noah had tried to argue, had tried to insist that Kurt return to the penthouse, saying that he wouldn't be able to rest knowing he wasn't there with him, but the man hadn't put up much of a battle. He'd ended up getting lulled back to sleep as Kurt had sung him a lullaby over the phone. It reminded the boy of when children claimed they weren't tired, that they could stay up forever when in the end; they'd fall asleep quicker than they'd thought. It was very sweet, and it made Kurt miss his boyfriend even more, but now, he needed his wits about him. They were making their way to Kurt's apartment. However, making their way probably wasn't the best way to describe it. Kurt couldn't remember how it had all started, but one minute they'd been talking like adults and now they were behaving like kids high on not caring how they looked to anyone.

All four of them looked positively ridiculous. Their running footsteps whizzed by each block, their disruptive voices were bouncing off buildings that were trying to sleep and yet, none of them cared how childish they looked. For Kurt, it was so liberating. He had never been able to do something like this back in Lima, firstly because the people running after him would be laughing at him as well as wielding water pistols loaded with urine, and secondly, he'd always been somewhat of a goody two shoes, never wanting to get into trouble. Kurt still enjoy getting into trouble, but tonight was the night to go wild. Carlson was flinging his hand out to grab Lola's ass, fingers caressing her dress making her squeal whilst Joshua made to wrap Kurt up in his arms and spin him around in circles only to miss by a mere frustrating inches. So close. Yet so far.

Turning onto Kurt's block and running down the road at breakneck speed, it didn't take long for Kurt to fumble around for his keys that were so deeply buried in his pocket he could hardly feel them. The stone stairs to his building loomed ever closer as if beckoning them to hurry along before their sexy attackers claimed them and as both he and Lola climbed the steps two at a time, the key was entered into the lock and the door was opened. They'd been granted extra time when their pursuers had ungracefully tripped and stumbled on the first couple of stairs, eliciting a chorus of laughs from the model and his blonde friend from above, but even though he had, it didn't stop them. Their chasers were still persistent, wanting to win, and as Lola made to close the door, she screamed as Carlson placed his foot in the way and smirked at her, his eyes glinting.

Kurt didn't know, he might have been wrong, but he'd always felt like there was something there sizzling in-between his two friends. Carlson would always tease Lola on her ditziness and she would in turn always joke about how much of a pig he was, but even through all the lighthearted insults and such, there was something Kurt felt was there. However, he didn't have time to analyze anything because with a push that had Lola running towards the stairs, Carlson opened the door and pelted after them. These two pursuers were insufferable. The lion like roars and growls were sure to alarm the neighbor's cat and Kurt was worried someone was going to come out and beat them with a broomstick or newspaper roll for disrupting their journey to dream land. Yet, they wouldn't have had a chance. All four laughing lunatics were speeding like crazy.

Reaching his door and unlocking it, Kurt laughed at the way his pursuers were still tripping on the stairs, their curses filling the air with rounds of "ow!", "shit!" and "I'm so wasted!" It really wouldn't be of any wonder if by the time they'd caught up with him, the palms of their hands would be reddened from the falls and their knees and shins bruised to the shade of Tyrian purple. Opening the door, Kurt and Lola bolted into the apartment and quickly slammed the door behind them, slumping to the ground as they tried to catch their breaths. Their chests were still heaving as if a weight was crushing down on their rib cages and their mouths were gasping, both for gallons of air and the need for water. Their throats were thoroughly parched yet before Kurt could get up and shake himself off from his hysterics, someone knocked on the door.

"Doll face! Kurt, let us in!" pleaded Carlson's voice beyond the door, his lazy rapping instigating yet another round of laughs from Kurt whilst Lola tried to get regain her posture. She too had collapsed to a heap on the floor but as she tried to get up, it was no use. She had fully exhausted her body considering how much alcohol was in her system so it was up to Kurt to pull himself up from the door handle and open it for the two pursuers who looked even worse than they did. It was hilarious. "My God you guys are fast motherfuckers. Wouldn't want to take you down in a marathon."

"Shh, my neighbors will hear you and we've probably already pissed them off enough. Come in," giggled Kurt, opening the door wide for both Carlson and Joshua to stumble through as they tried to remain on their two feet. It was obvious everyone was going to stay the night. There was no way Kurt was going to let them all run about like safari monkeys, thought it was probably just as well. He had drunk a sip of alcohol at dinner which meant he was free to lead his posse of intoxicated into his bedroom and onto his bed. "Just don't make too much noise, okay. Just lie there and I'll get some water."

"Hey Kurt, your bed's really comfy. Come lie in it with us and then we can play 'who am I?'" Moaned Lola, shifting on Kurt's bed as she snuggled herself deeper into his comforter. 'Who am I' was one of the games they'd played back at the restaurant. It had been amongst a string of them following the singing glasses and everyone had found it terribly amusing. There had been a Jesus Christ, Mozart and Alexander the Great as well as more modern faces including Barack Obama, Rosie Huntington Whiteley and to Kurt's surprise, his boyfriend, Noah Puckerman, which had funnily enough been stuck to him.

"No more playing tonight Lola, you need to get to sleep."

"No Kurtie, come join us for snuggles."

"Snuggle with Carlson. There's plenty more of him to snuggle than me."

"But if you come we can make a threesome. A foursome if Joshua joins."

"Okay, this is getting too weird. I need water," replied Kurt, turning around and heading to the kitchen, Joshua following closely behind him. When the model entered, he pulled out several glasses, poured some Evian water into each and drowned his own before turning around and only noticing Joshua in the doorway. The man against the frame, his lids justly slightly drooping but his eyes were very much fixed on Kurt's as the boy offered him a glass of water. Voicing his thanks, Joshua accepted the glass, gulped it down before wiping away a trickling droplet from his chin. "Do you want another glass?"

"Yeah, I think I'll go for another one," nodded Joshua, smiling softly as Kurt took the glass from his hand, refilled it from the plastic bottle and returned it to him. There the man gulped it down again but as Kurt made to move away, he grabbed his wrist. "Listen Kurt... I can't stay here for the night. I only came here with you guys because I wanted to speak to you. I haven't seen you in two weeks and when Carlson invited me over to this dinner thing saying you'd be there, I pretty much jumped at it. Don't blame him though. I didn't have to come, I just wanted to... to see you, to see how you were doing."

"Oh... well, I'm... I'm doing good, but I know I could feel better if I do something first," muttered Kurt, putting down his glass on the counter and bringing himself into Joshua. There he wrapped his arms around the man, placing his head on his chest where he could hear every heartbeat quicken at the contact. Joshua had been a companion in those weeks following his breakup with Noah, and although it hadn't worked out, Kurt would always remember this man. "Thank you for saving my life, Joshua. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you most. You're such a... such a good man. I'm so lucky."

"So is Puckerman," replied Joshua, Kurt bringing his face away from its warm perch to look up at the man's knowing face. Of course, he would know. Everyone at this point did, and Kurt was starting to regret how it had been done. He hadn't thought of who he might be hurting, for Joshua had always been in the firing line. "I know you and him are back together, Kurt. I knew the minute we first went out that you were in love with someone else even though I didn't know who it was back then, and even though I tried to make you love me, I knew it wouldn't work. I just wanted to be close to you. You're so beautiful."

"You do know that if I hadn't met Noah, and you I had first met at a fashion show, I would have gone out with you in a second," smiled Kurt, giggling as Joshua grinned down at him. It was true. Joshua was very much Kurt's type. He was masculine, warm, kind hearted, and a swimmer's body worth drooling over, but as long as Kurt had known Noah, he knew the Puckerman would always be the one for him, even if there were other extremely attractive men out there in New York. "That's right, I would have snapped you up and kept a hold of you because you, Joshua, are amazing."

"You do know that even if you had met me first, Puckerman would have noticed you sooner or later," replied Joshua as Kurt came to ponder what had just been said. If Noah had met him after Joshua, how could have things turned out? Would Noah have had just a simple crush that would have deteriorated over time or would he have pursued Kurt out of love? One thing was for sure, in both reality and out, Noah and Joshua would not get on either way. "Seriously Kurt, you've probably been told this before, but Puckerman really loves you. I knew it even before he said it when he held you by the lake."

"Joshua, you don't have to say this... please don't say any more, it's hurting you."

"I've got to, Kurt. It looked as if he'd die if you'd died, which makes me know for sure that you'll be loved."

"What are you sayi-"

"I love you."

"Oh... Joshua," whispered Kurt, his breath catching in his throat as the man came to hold his pale wrists tight against his chest. Silence seemed to tick away, each droplet from the kitchen tap mimicking the sound of the clock as time went by. Kurt didn't want to break a heart, he wanted it intact, but both he and Joshua knew that it was inevitable. The boy could only hope that Joshua only thought he was in love, or maybe in love with the model he saw on the runways and in the airbrushed photos on glossed magazines, not him. Not him. "Joshua... you know... you know if things had been different... maybe..."

"Shh, I know Kurt, I know," smiled Joshua sadly, grazing his fingers along the boy's jawline before leaning in for kiss on the cheek. For Kurt, he didn't think it would be enough. He knew the man wanted to delve in a parting taste of his lips, for this would be the last time he'd ever be this close to their presence again, but they both knew that what belonged to Noah, remained Noah's. Kurt was with Noah and therefore, a mere kiss on Kurt's porcelain cheek was all that was given. However, it didn't prevent Kurt from doing the same, a kiss on the cheek, a kiss engraved there forever. "Goodbye, Kurt."

And with that, Joshua was gone. Kurt was left alone to stand in the kitchen staring unblinkingly where his ex-boyfriend had once stood. In some ways, he felt like crying, as if crying would be able to drain away the pain, but he knew it wouldn't. He knew what Joshua was going through. He'd been through it himself years ago. There was no healer, only time. Kurt looked around. He looked towards his bedroom entrance where Lola and Carlson were fast asleep on his bed. It lured him into the room but instead of joining them, he went over to the window. Looking down he saw him, Joshua, walking down the apartment building steps and glancing back up at Kurt's window, smiling, before walking on down the street, never looking back. It was the last time Kurt ever saw him again but he would never forget him. Never.

 _Farewell_ , he thought.  _Farewell, my lonely savior._

**.**

**Glee**

**.**

Turning his pillow over so that the cooler side now met his face, Kurt rolled his body so that even more stretches of his skin could meet cooler surfaces. The duvet was winded around his legs as if he were climbing a rope and the angle of his body was splayed out in a position that made it looked as if he'd just fallen from a skyscraper or just been raped. He didn't usually sleep in such an unrefined way, it was just that the last few days had been nonstop, something his body was very much imitating. He just couldn't seem to stop fidgeting and moving position until with a loud thump, Kurt rolled off the bed and landed on the ground below. Crashing out of bed was not something new and hitting his head on something definitely wasn't new. Disorientation and pain were his coffee in the morning, and it was one real kick to the system, that was for sure.

It had been two weeks since Carmen's party and Kurt was currently at the Puckerman penthouse apartment nursing his throbbing head. Noah wasn't around, he was in Massachusetts taking his finals at Harvard, and as a result, Kurt and Anita were both going to have the joy of arranging the boy's affairs, because very much like how he'd predicted, Kurt was now living here. Noah had asked him to move in with him the day he had come over following Joshua's love confession and subsequent leave, and very much true to form and of course how he felt, Kurt had said yes. He now had a residence on the Upper West Side and now he had another one on the Upper East Side. He should have felt on top of the world, considering he was in penthouse high enough to be so, yet what had recently happened in his life brought it all back down to Earth.

First of all, he had decided to listen to what Carmen had said concerning traveling, allowing himself to go on shoots abroad instead of staying in New York. It had all educated him on different cultures, broadened his sense of adventure and given him an appetite to see much, much more. At the end of last week, he'd flown over to London, Paris and then Milan to participate in a six-day shoot. It had sucked a lot of energy out of him, but he had enjoyed it. What he hadn't enjoyed however, was leaving Noah behind. Their plans for having Kurt move in had been postponed until he returned from his trip, and to say his boyfriend had been disappointed could be played on repeat for ages. Noah had really wanted to help Kurt settle in, even film it, it meant that much to him, and in response, Kurt couldn't help but feel guilty and a tad selfish.

Secondly, though he had enjoyed going abroad, he'd felt as if the modeling had got in the way. Kurt had wanted to stroll around the cities, take in the architecture, taste the food and speak to the natives even though his French was weak and his Italian was next to nothing. His strict schedule had prevented him from doing all that, and when he'd seen an impressive street performance showcase on the Champs-Élysées in Paris, his love of theatre had returned to him yet again, this time, even stronger. He really did feel as though he should think of prioritizing NYADA above modeling, have them switched around, and he had wanted to tell this to Noah in person, but as soon as he'd returned to New York, Noah had been off to Harvard. His finals were approaching, and once again, they found themselves all alone without the other.

Now, as Kurt untangled himself from the duvet, attempted to make the bed haphazardly and open the balcony doors to air the room, he began to think that this really wasn't the best start to a relationship. They always did have their ups and downs, many in fact, but some survived and both he and Noah were certainly going to jump over this hurdle. Kurt smiled. The hurdle was already shrinking anyway. Once Noah was done with his finals, he'd return and Kurt would let him in on his news of wishing to return to the theatre. His boyfriend would be so happy of the decision and they'd both unpack Kurt's stuff together because Kurt would have known that it was something Noah wanted to do with the two of them together. Hopefully, that's the way it would go, but first of all, Kurt had to have a shower and possibly, a breath mint.

An hour later, with clean smelling clothes on his back, his hair and skin done and a fragrance from a certain boyfriend lingering on his selected pulse points, Kurt entered the living room and looked around. His moving boxes packed full with his things from his previous apartment had been stacked neatly in one corner since he hadn't allowed them to swamp entire areas which would only render moving around difficult. It wasn't fair on others and since he enjoyed lots of space himself, it wouldn't have been fair on him. Not everything from his old place was here. Like his things in Lima, not everything had made the move and so only what he needed and personally wanted stood before him as he inspected that nothing had been damaged, squashed or deformed from a travel which was just over the park from here. Not that far at all.

Checking the time on the clock on the wall, Kurt took note that it was only nine o'clock in the morning. He had an idea of taking his laptop out and skyping Noah at Harvard, but he had no idea of the man's timetable. It was possible he was in the middle of a final write now, but deciding to give it a go anyway, Kurt went for it. He searched around for his laptop, being careful not to cause an avalanche in the process before finally locating it in the box marked 'Electronics' in black marker. It was an organized packing system that his father had suggested he take up before he'd gone for New York in September and it just looking for what you wanted, that much easier. Pulling his laptop from the back, unwrapping it and setting it up on the coffee table, Kurt gusyed himself in his reflection on the screen as he opening Skype with anticipated eyes.

No, Noah wasn't online. Kurt had been expecting that, he'd just not been wishing for it. Waiting another set of minutes before it was made clear that he his boyfriend wasn't going to pop up with his masculine face and hazel eyes on his screen, Kurt huffed a sigh before getting up and heading into the kitchen to fetch himself something to eat. He had nothing to do today. Nothing was planned and he had to a whole penthouse to waste time. Noah had once told him that on days like this, he'd either walk around the place naked, stand by his window overlooking the city naked and of course, masturbate all day long, naked. Kurt erupted into laughter, so much so that he nearly spilled the milk that he had been pouring in his oatmeal. He was looking forward to the great times ahead in this place. No doubt, a lot of them would have him and Noah naked. Ha!

Walking back over to his laptop, Kurt was just about to sign of Skype in favor of watching fail videos on YouTube, when he heard a sound. Looking closely down at the screen as he deposited his bowl on the coffee table, he noticed that none other than Noah was trying to video call him. Kurt clicked on the answer button immediately and there on the screen flashed up his boyfriend, clad in an eye catching crimson red Harvard tee shirt. In the background was his dorm room with what looked like a Harvard football helmet on a shelf and beside that, his bed, desk and wardrobe. Bringing his eyes away from the background, Kurt focused on the foreground figure and smiled. He hadn't seen Noah in a week, not since he'd left for Europe. He hadn't been able to wish him luck for his finals before he'd left for college, which made him all the happier to see him now.

"Hey, babe."

"Noah, I was just about to call you but you weren't online. How are you?"

"I'm good. I've just come from my morning run."

"Morning run? You don't look like you've been running."

"I've just showered, but I hardly broke a sweat anyway. I usually do a couple laps of the campus early in the morning when no one's around, but since it's finals week, I have to cut back," informed Noah, Kurt nodding in response as he smiled back at the man on the screen. He didn't what it was but Kurt felt as though there was an awkward tension in the air between him and Noah now. It was strange, yet it seemed to break when Noah continued. "I miss you, Kurt. I wish I could have been there at the airport when you came back. It's what I was looking forward to do ever since you left, it fucking sucks."

"I know, I was looking forward to seeing you too, but the crew wouldn't allow me to catch an earlier flight. I'm sorry," apologized Kurt, as his anger towards his agency grew. If it hadn't been for them, he might have met Noah holding a bouquet at the airport like they did in films. Damn! "I do have some good news though. My things have arrived from my place, and if I just move the laptop... like so... there, you can see all my boxers over there. See? I haven't unpacked a single thing, except this laptop and my toiletries. I know you want to be here when I do the rest, so I'm holding it off until you return."

"That's great, Kurt! I can't believe you remembered that I wanted to do that with you. You're amazing, thanks!" Grinned Noah happily, Kurt turning and adjusting the angle of the laptop so that his boxes in the background were in perfect view. Once he'd settled into position, he kneeled down so that his face was in line with the camera at the top of the screen. It was a personal tick of his when people weren't centered on video calls. It was so annoying. "Damn it babe, I wish I was over there with you. I'm pretty much stuck here doing revision all day. I had my first exam yesterday and the next is tomorrow."

"Oh, I hope it went well. You're always saying how you seem to do well in your assignments and dissertations, so I'm sure you've done good, but that's all I'm saying. I don't want to jinx it for you," smiled Kurt, winking at Noah as his boyfriend sounded a deep chuckle from his chest. It wasn't the same over Skype, but that chuckle would always do something to Kurt's stomach. Like a feather stroking soft fuzz. "Noah, honey, I really want to talk to you, but I'm afraid I'm posing too much of a distraction to what you should be doing. I don't want you to fail any of these exams because of me. I'd feel awful."

"Kurt, baby, if you think that you don't have a presence here in my dorm room then you're wrong. You know those photos I took of you in that Marilyn Monroe tee shirt? I chose my favorite one, blew it up to a huge ass poster size and stuck it on my wall. Wanna see?" Smirked Noah, shifting his own laptop so that the next thing Kurt was seeing was indeed a poster of him, clad in only Marilyn's face and his bare legs, smiling. "Yep, there you are. I pinned it up as soon as I got here. It welcomes me back to this room, keeps my hand busy at night and whenever I look at it, it always makes me think of you."

"Well, it's bound to make you think of me Noah, but don't you think you may have blown it up a little too much? What must your friends think?" Asked Kurt, removing the hand that had been clamped to his mouth out of pure shock. Noah hadn't been kidding when he'd said Kurt would become his pin up boy. He was Noah's Farrah Fawcett, his sex symbol that sent his heart racing, his libido surging and any other emotion bubbling to the surface. As a result, Kurt couldn't help but smile, yet the sheet size of it was a bit much. "I mean, it's the first thing you look at when you enter your room, no?"

"Sure it is, but I don't care what others are going to think. I'm not going to take it down or replace it with some bimbo. Besides, my friends don't care. They've seen it and think you're cute. There's nothing to worry about, baby," smiled Noah reassuringly, returning the laptop to its original position as he looked back at Kurt on the screen. God, he missed him so much. "Anyway, just a couple more days and I'll be able to see you for real, Kurt. Seriously, it's been too long. I feel like a bad boyfriend for leaving you in that penthouse. You must be bored out your mind stewing around in there."

"I only got up an hour ago so I've yet to get bored, Noah. I mean, I have a photoshoot tomorrow, but in the meantime, I had an idea that I could ask Anita to bring out the Puckerman family photo albums. I want to see all your personal pictures from when you were a baby to when you were in high school. I bet you looked so cute as a kindergarten toddler," laughed Kurt, Noah moaning before head banging his forehead onto the desk in embarrassment. Taking pity on the man, Kurt made a deal. "Okay Noah, how about I see your family albums and you in return can see my high school music videos. Fair?"

"You know, I was planning on stealing that DVD whilst we'd unpack your stuff, babe. I know you don't want me to see it but if it's anything like a motion picture version of the pin up poster I have of you, then you'd be my own little porn star here on my laptop," smirked Noah, Kurt rolling his eyes as he hid a smile of his own. This man was quite something wasn't he. "Seriously Kurt, you can't stay in there all day. I know what it's like, it's so fucking boring. I think there's a Butterfly exhibit at the Museum of Natural History you could go check out. Or Coney Island maybe... anything for you to not see those photos."

"I'm seeing them and that's final. I'm not passing up seeing you in diapers for Butterflies. Nope, plus I like it here, Noah. I grew up in a middle class home of average size and design so this is like whole other world to me. It's like one of those super modern apartments you see in the architecture sections of Tumblr," explained Kurt, looking around the living room before bringing his eyes back to the screen. "Plus I'm the one who's been the bad boyfriend. I went flitting off to Europe when I should have been moving in here. We could have unpacked everything before you'd gone to college. Talk about bad timing."

"Don't worry about it, Kurt. Just as long as you're there when I get back and not a sheet of bubble wrap has been touched, everything's good. I want us popping those bubbles together," grinned Noah as Kurt smiled endearingly back. Popping bubble wrap was always something that overtook the actual unwrapping process but he could just imagine it now, him and Noah engaging in a bubble popping battle, followed by both of them making out on yards of it. It was going to be a fun day that day. "So, babe, what's going to happen to your old place. Are you going to sell it or what?"

"Actually, no. I'm subletting it."

"Oh, how come?"

"Well, just in case. You know, if something were to happen."

"Like what?"

"Like if something happens to this penthouse and it goes up in flames, I'll have to move back into my old place until it's repaired, or if something happens to... us, I mean if our relationship were to... end, somehow or another, and me living here no longer works out, I'd have my old place to go back to," explained Kurt, his nerves now raw and electric as he took in the look on Noah's face. It was not a good one. The hypothesis was upsetting the man more and more. "Honey, I'm not saying anything is going to happen to us. I'm sure we'll work out just fine, it's just, I thought it best to do so, just in case."

"It's okay, Kurt. I get it, I get it. You just took me by surprise is all," replied Noah, Kurt observing closely how the man shuffled restlessly in his seat as he used one hand to rub at his forehead. Ever since Bloomingdale's, Noah's jealousy and anxieties about losing Kurt had improved. They were less pronounced, distinct and evident. It seemed the constant streams of reassurance from Kurt had worked, yet what had just been said had not helped in the slightest. "Actually Kurt, speaking of surprises, when I come back, I've got something big planned. It's... kinda important."

"Oh? You going to tell me what it is, or am I going to have to wait?" Smiled Kurt, glad that they'd moved on from what he'd just said in favor of something peaking his curiosity. In response, Noah could only shake his head and the uncomfortable look he had been sporting earlier vanished to be replaced with a shy grin that had Kurt wondering even more. Was his boyfriend going to make a big announcement? Was he planning for another one of their 'championship fuck fests'? Who knew, but it sounded important. "Who's the surprise for? Do you want me to help at all? I can lend a hand with organizing it if you-

"No!" Shouted Noah quickly, Kurt flinching away from the screen as he eyes widened. Well, that had been a reaction he had not been thinking he'd receive. He'd been offering his help and normally he would have been angry at being snubbed in such a rude way but at the look of panic he'd seen in Noah's eyes when he'd shouted, it only seemed to puzzle Kurt. Had Noah even told anyone else about this? Was this that big of a secret? "Fuck, I'm sorry Kurt. I didn't mean to shout at you like that, it's just, it's something I have to do myself. I can't have you helping me when... it's you I'm surprising."

"Me? You're surprising me... oh... I think I know what this is about," sighed Kurt as Noah's eyes widened in horror. "Noah, honey, we've gone through this before. If you're planning on buying me something or rewarding with something I've yet to know off, don't. Please. You need to stop thinking you're inadequate, because trust me, you're not. You're very good to me. You're charming, boyish and tender and I like that. Not to mention you're hot as hell with a body that makes me weak. It's all more than enough, so please, just make sure that the one thing you bring back is you, because I love you, Noah."

"Say that again, Kurt... please."

"I love you, baby."

"Fuck..."

"Noah, are you alright? You seem-"

"I love so much, Kurt. I miss you so fucking much it hurts," gushed Noah, Kurt's heart welling as his boyfriend threw his own out to him. If it weren't for a glass screen and a distance of hundreds of miles, this would have been the moment they'd have entered each other's arms and kissed, because though there were approximately 1,019,729 words in the English language, not a single one of them could be strung up to create a sentence that could describe what both of them felt for each other. Love was only the beginning. "Trust me, I'll be with you as quick as I can once my last exam is over."

"I'll be waiting," cooed Kurt, his lips morphing into a slight pout as his eyelids fluttered lower before looking back at Noah. In those seconds, both of them knew what Kurt was trying to say he also missed but didn't want to say aloud in favor of his body doing the talking. The boy was horny. It was too long since he'd had sex with Noah and he needed him badly. It was alright for his boyfriend, he had a freaking poster of Kurt pinned up on his wall, but what had Kurt to go on? He was sure he'd find something of use if he went rummaging around this place. Something to help that dirty mind of his. "Bye honey."

Winking back at Kurt before throwing him a genuine smile that put across all his love for the boy, Noah waved back at Kurt before the call ended. He leaned back in his chair as he observed the screen where his boy had once been and felt the inevitable heat rush into a certain member down south. Those last few minutes had been fucking hard. He'd seen the lust in Kurt's eyes, the way the boy's body had had let it be known how much he missed him, this time, sexually. Oh, how Noah wished he was over there, kissing Kurt, taking care of his frustrations, carrying him to bed and making him scream. In every short lived relationship he'd had, sex had never been a problem. It had been his speciality and he'd known how to keep his partners satisfied but to have Kurt all alone in that penthouse, horny and in blue ball hell, it was torturous for Noah.

However, the thought of letting Kurt down as an insatiable lover disappeared when he noticed something he'd kept hidden from everyone on his desk. It was an object that now went back to the surprise he had in store for Kurt, the big important surprise that had his heart beating wildly until his rib cage clattered like an internal xylophone, his palms sweating all over the arms of his desk chair but his excitement, thrill and sense of rush soaring higher than it had done on the Kingda Ka. It wasn't an object that was going to satisfy Kurt sexually, but this object was worth so much more. Wiping his palms on his jeans, Noah picked it up and felt it. Even for something of its small size, it weighed quite a number. Blue velvet lined it was. Harry Winston branded. Cushion-cut. A real three carat beauty, and to see it on a porcelain finger. Noah smiled. It was time.


	24. Lucky Ones

Setting aside the last of Kurt's empty moving boxes, Noah made his way into the corner of his living room and examined it all with an air of achievement. Everything of Kurt's had now been unpacked. All his clothes had been assigned their designated drawers, his toiletries had been arranged neatly in the bathroom, his laptop and iPhone lay on the coffee table and the rest of his own personal memorabilia were stored almost decoratively in places around the penthouse. It had been a surprise to Noah at first. Not that he'd wanted to assume anything but he'd really thought Kurt would have come with a lot more of his things. Unpacking had taken less than two hours and hardly anything had been bubble wrapped, except for a few delicate objects here and there. It had all been relatively easy, yet that's not to say they hadn't had fun doing it.

Noah had arrived home late yesterday evening. His last exam had been in the early afternoon and he'd spent the whole morning revising for it. In the end, he'd thought he'd done well. There was always the feeling that he could have done better but he'd given it his all and he could only hope that his results would reflect how he felt. However, even though he'd been brain dead and exhausted from such a day, he'd returned to New York without delay. Seeing Kurt once again in person after all this time had been the thing he'd most looked forward to. It was as if whilst he'd been at Harvard, every minute he'd missed Kurt had been like a stab wound to his body from a stained, rusty, rugged knife, and only when he'd had the boy back in his arms again had all those knives been removed and his bleeding wounds healed with the kiss of his Kurt's lips.

Oh, how they had kissed that night. They had kissed so much it was amazing their lips could move even now. Sure they'd hugged and sure they'd exchanged small talk regarding their health, Noah's exams and Kurt's things stacked neatly in the corner of the living room, but when the model's eyes had fizzled, almost crackled with thunderous black lust that made it look as if he was some sort of sex robot where orgasms were his only sustenance, any logic, as well as anything else that had been thrown out the window. Noah had been more than happy to relieve Kurt of his sexual frustrations and had been at his will the entire night. If he'd been told to blow Kurt, he'd done it. If he'd been told to spank Kurt, he'd done it. They'd frotted hard, they'd fucked hard, they had done everything Kurt had wanted, and for Noah, it had been one hell of a welcome home party.

Chuckling at last night's memories of him and Kurt nearly breaking the bed during blind sex, Noah shook his head before looking over to the window outside. The Christmas holiday season was upon them. The weather was getting colder, stores had been festively decorated with shades of red and green and kids, no doubt, were all compiling their Christmas letters for Santa Claus. The thought of families milling around a crackling fireplace or a Christmas tree would have been indifferent to Noah seeing as the Puckerman's, following Thomas's death, had never had that kind of traditional postcard like Christmas. His mother would only hang around briefly before heading off to various Christmas luncheons, functions and dinners on Park Avenue, leaving Anita to oversee her children as they unwrapped their presents with their cards simply signed, 'Mother'.

At this, Noah began to wonder if his mother would treat him any differently now that he was an adult, or when he'd become CEO. It's not that she was cruel and particularly cold, it's just that she didn't have much a maternal instinct, which meant that the priorities of her children were more often than not overshadowed by her own interests. Again, it made her sound selfish, but Noah knew she didn't intend to cause harm. Yet through what she had done, Noah was now all right, because he had Kurt. Kurt had been like a human sponge to Noah. He'd let the man shower him with attention, affection and love, everything that Noah never been able to give to either one of his parents, and even though his fear of loss had been an unfortunate side effect, causing some friction, Kurt had moved in with him, both of them taking the first big step together.

This would also mark his first Christmas with Kurt. Now that they were living together, they'd be able to decorate the place the way they wanted it. They could set up the Christmas tree together, engage in Christmas dinner food fights and gift each other with suggestive presents. In no time at all, Noah would be waltzing Kurt around the Rockefeller Ice Rink, perfectly blended in the remaining ocean of dancing couples all around and when they'd return to the penthouse, after having snuck into Santa's grotto in Bloomingdale's for a quick grope, they'd intimately kiss under the mistletoe next to Noah's fireplace for the starter of a night best left to fantasize over for now. Noah sighed in contentment. He was so happy right now, and as he was just about to go find Kurt, said boy appeared at the other side of the room holding the Puckerman photo album.

"Hey, Noah," smiled Kurt, stopping however when he noticed Noah's eyes shift like sharp shooter lasers to the book of embarrassment being held in his hands. Kurt had first mentioned the album when Noah had been at Harvard, but back then, there had been nothing the man could have done to stop Kurt from looking at it. Now, Noah was on the opposite side of the room looking ready to pounce. "Uh huh, that's right honey, I hold in my hand Volume 1 of the Puckerman photo albums that Anita gave me the other day. I've been through them all and I have to say that it's made for quite an interesting read."

"Oh my God, you've seen them?" Asked Noah disbelievingly as he watched with exasperated eyes as Kurt nodded in confirmation. Yep, that was it. Kurt had now seen pictures of him in the Kindergarten Nativity play as Joseph. He'd seen pictures of his medal ceremony as a scout. He'd seen pictures of him when he'd had curly hair and chubby cheeks as well as years and years of humiliating Halloween costumes from Hefty Smurf to Sperm Man. "Shit, fine, okay babe, now it's only fair you hold up on your part of the deal. You've seen me in diapers, now I get to see your music videos."

"Oh, I'm sorry Noah. Anita accidently snapped the disc in two when she hoovered the other day. It's a shame really because I was really looking forward to showing it you," pouted Kurt, watching as Noah's mouth dropped with both disappointment and anger. Looking forward to showing them to him? Bullshit. Kurt didn't want anyone to watch those videos, yet the boy had seen Noah's photos. It was just so unfair, until Kurt let out a loud shout. "Jokes! Only kidding, Noah. Anita didn't break it, it's safe, though that doesn't mean I'm going to show it to you. The contents of this DVD is highly confidential and-"

"Drop that photo album and give me the disc, Kurt."

"The album is so much more interesting though. Would you believe it you had such a big penis when you were a toddler."

"Kurt, the disc."

"Hang on, let me get the picture when baby Puckzilla is at his biggest. So cute."

"Fucking hell," chuckled Noah to himself, breaking out into a quick run as he pelted his way towards Kurt. Noticing only when he briefly looked up, Kurt screamed before dropping the album and sprinting into the kitchen, his hysteric laughter trailing behind him. However, the chase didn't last long. Learning from his mistakes when he'd chased after Sarah, Noah managed to outmaneuver Kurt and tackle him onto the couch, landing on top of the boy as he pinned him down by his arms. "Kurt, I'm going to ask you for the disc for the last time and if you don't tell me where it is, I will tickle the fuck out you. Where is-"

"It's there, Noah. Look," breathed Kurt guardedly but still amused as he tilted his head and nodded over to the laptop on the coffee table. The screen had been closed and as Noah turned to it before tentatively lifting it up; he was presented with the well-designed DVD menu of Kurt's disc, clips from each music video appearing like a repeating slideshow in the background. "I set it up earlier when you were rearranging your wardrobe and closet space for my clothes. Even though it's hard for me to show it to you, much like how you feel about your photos, I wanted to surprise you with it, wanted us to watch it together."

"Neat! Thanks, babe," grinned Noah, pulling himself off Kurt before sitting comfortably on the couch and tapping his thighs for Kurt to sit on. Smiling at the keen invitation, Kurt pulled himself up, crawled into the man's lap and settled himself cosily until they were both at a position where they could see the screen. Noah's arms then wrapped themselves around Kurt's hips and waist, and as the boy leaned forward to play the DVD, his memories flashed back to when it had screened at the Monarch Theater. He'd not been happy, yet he hoped Noah would have the same positive reaction as his friends.

As the first music video, Mr. Taxi, flashed up onto the screen, Kurt watched as Noah's eyes remained riveted. He wasn't interested so much in watching himself as he was the man he was sitting on, for how Noah perceived what had effectively been a golden ticket into modeling was very important to him. He supposed it was also the fear that Noah wouldn't appreciate it or find it very good that had rendered Kurt hesitant to show it, but it seemed, from what he could see that he had nothing to fear. Noah was grinning. His smile widening every second. His head nodding to the beat, he was glancing over at Kurt impressed with a look of pride and arousal mixed into his eyes and as each video passed, Kurt began to become more reassured that what was being played before them wasn't something to be ashamed about. It was excellent.

"Wow, Kurt..." whispered Noah, watching as the final music video ended. What he had just seen was quite something. The cinematography had looked very professional for an amateur production, the mise-en-scene in each video had been a wild ride of either explosive kaleidoscope colors or atmospheric sombre shades with striking hair and makeup, intense hued lighting, but above all, hot as fuck choreography. Kurt could really dance, even in leather and sometimes in little space; it was something to awe at. "Babe, that was awesome. I'm telling you now, that is what you should be doing right there."

"Doing what exactly, Noah?"

"Performing. You should be on stage performing. You can see it in your face, look."

"Well, I've told you I want to go back to the theater."

"You should totally do it. You've got both stage and screen presence, the eye's just drawn to you."

"Well you would say that Noah, you're my boyfriend. You can't help being biased towards me, it's in the relationship status job description," joked Kurt, bringing out a hand and rubbing it along Noah's warm chuckling chest as the man leaned up and captured his lips in a sweet kiss. "Anyway, I'm glad you like the videos. Artie and I only planned to film one or two but we ended up filming seven because he wanted to build up his portfolio for the Brooklyn Film Academy, which I think he went to in the end. He wants to be a music video director someday and he came to me because I wanted to be in one."

"And who chose the music? You?" Guessed Noah, Kurt nodding as he remembered the process well. When both he and Artie had discussed music, they'd gone through libraries upon libraries of songs before landing on Girls' Generation, a girl group they'd stumbled across after delving more into South Korean pop thanks to Pye's 'Gangnam Style'. Artie believed that the foreign language would differentiate his work from others, letting the academy know that he was in touch with tunes from abroad and not just from America. "Can you speak the language they're singing, babe? You lip sync real good in all of them."

"No, I can't speak Japanese. It was just a case of listening to each song over and over again until I learned it off by heart. All the other dancers had to do it as well, although some found it so much harder than others," explained Kurt. "I'm not going to tell you what the lyrics meant though, because even for me they're cringe worthy. In Japanese culture, it's all about being cute, you know. The cuter the better, and because pop over here is so sexualized, we're just not used to it. I'm surprised I managed to bring any sex appeal to a set of tunes which could have been mistaken for the Disney Channel score."

"Except for that Mr. Taxi song. I don't need to know the lyrics, I can guess them. I bet you were singing about being fucked in the back of a cab, and those Run Devil Run and Bad Girl songs, I bet they're the same. It's still sex. You're just singing that you want whoever's listening to chase you down, catch you and fuck you," replied Noah casually. "And as for the others they're just about teenage crushes and wanting to make out or whatever. Its lighter stuff, yeah, but it's still sexual. Everything in pop no matter what country it's from or what language it is, is sexual. It's where the market is."

"Well, you certainly know your stuff, don't you honey," giggled Kurt, watching Noah shrug nonchalantly as if he didn't want to admit he were some kind of nerd on the generic conventions of music. Kurt knew that Girls' Generation wasn't to Noah's taste. The man was more into rock, heavy metal and jazz as well as the occasional classical here and there. It was quite a big leap and Kurt was surprised Noah hadn't muted the audio in favor of just watching the video, but because he'd managed to stomach it, Kurt smiled. "I know you find the music terrible. You might have enjoyed it more if we'd chosen something else."

"Maybe, but at least the video is good. I liked the videos, you look so fucking hot," moaned Noah, nodding back over to the screen as Kurt smiled. The videos had been filmed in the autumn of last year over a twenty-one day period. Looking at how he looked back then, Kurt noticed that he'd hardly changed. His hair had been a little short, his cheeks fuller and eyes slightly rounder and bigger but apart from that, his appearance had not aged a day. "And the audio babe, though it is cheesy as fuck, doesn't mean I can't listen to it. I can tolerate some pop. Like Madonna. She's good. I went and saw her MDNA Tour."

"Really? I wish I could have gone. I wanted to go and see her last tour but she never came to Ohio. I'll just have to wait until the DVD comes out next year," pouted Kurt, recovering as he turned to see Noah wishing he'd brought him along. He'd have enjoyed it more. "You know Noah, unlike the others, you've focused on both the video as well as the meaning of the music and it's lyrics. My friends just went for the video. They were more interested in how I looked more than anything else, which I guess kind of feeds into why they thought I was a model. I wouldn't be here if they'd thought only of the music, I suppose."

"Speaking of your friends Kurt, I'm sorry that I've been kind of short with that Carlson guy," apologized Noah, Kurt looking down at him with concern as he took in the lower register in the man's voice. This was obviously something he had to get off his chest. Something he owed. "I know you and he are only friends and I know nothing's going to happen with you two, I just found it hard. You guys are so close and... I don't know. I was stupid. I've always had this problem, but it's never been as bad as this. You know, to the point where it makes me look like some psycho nut case. I guess old habits die hard."

"It's alright honey, I get it," replied Kurt as he attempted to calm his boyfriend. Noah really was trying to rectify his actions but Kurt knew that this was deeper than the man knew. "When I was at Carmen's party at Nobu, Carlson and I had a pretty heavy discussion about you. He shared his opinions on why you were how you were with him in Bloomingdale's and I agreed that what happened with your dad is probably now accountable for why you fear if anything should happen to me. Whether it be if I die or I leave you, because loss of what or who you love, Noah, is your greatest fear."

"That's... not really occurred to me before," muttered Noah, his eyes moving into space as he contemplated Kurt's truthful theory. He'd never thought he'd have daddy issues. He'd always assumed that had been more of a female thing but now that he came to think of it, it made sense. Had he adopted the persona of 'Puck', that promiscuous, ultra hegemonic bad boy to make up for the lack of a father figure in his life? Had he suppressed his bisexuality for fear of rejection and abstained from love in fear of possible loss as great if not greater than that of his father? Kurt's words were true. "Kurt, I... I never thought-"

"I know you didn't Noah, you weren't aware of it, but it's alright, I understand," soothed Kurt, leaning down and dusting a kiss over Noah's lips before pulling back with a determined look. "Listen, we're going to get through this together, okay? The side effects of your fear of loss like the jealousy and anxiety and such, are getting a lot better, Noah. They really are. You're becoming much more relaxed with the idea of me being around other men, and if you do find yourself getting a little possessive, try and channel it into the bedroom where that sort of attention, believe you me, will be fully appreciated."

"You do get turned on when I'm like that, don't you?"

"Much like you get turned on when I eat dirty or when we had angry sex that one time."

"Can we please do that again? Next time we're pissed, we fuck."

"You do have some wild fetishes I can till you that."

"What about you, baby? What are your 'wild' fetishes? Want to tell me them or do you want me to find them out for myself?" Smirked Noah, removing a hand from around Kurt and sliding it under the boy's polo top. There it slithered up his pale torso, and chest before hovering over a nipple and stroking it, its end soon becoming harder and harder. Kurt bit his lip as Noah aroused him even further with those talented fingers that new exactly what they were doing but as the man made to place the other hand on his jean opening, Kurt swatted it away, leaving Noah chuckling. "I thought I'd have to work harder."

"You thought correctly Mr., but something like that would be best reserved for this evening, don't you think? Just us two in that big bed of yours, going on a little adventure to find my hidden treasure, sounds good doesn't it," flirted Kurt, as he lowered his mouth to Noah's ear and licked the fleshly shell, vibrations on his tongue letting him know the man was shivering in arousal. However, he pulled back when he felt Noah attempt to loosen his jeans again. "No Noah, I can't. I have things to do. Theater agencies to call. I need to find one that will take me on without a college degree for the time being."

"Don't sweat it, babe. You have time. Besides, my ma knows so many people in the musical theater business; she's bound to have good contacts. If I get her to talk to you, she'll dish you out as many numbers as you need," smiled Noah, relenting that sexy times with his boy should be left for tonight. Kurt needed his support right now. He was nervous and Noah had to be there for him. He'd always be there for him in a heartbeat. "Trust me; we're going to make this happen for you, Kurt. I want to see you acting, singing and dancing on a Broadway stage because I know that's where your true calling is."

"You think your mom would really do that for me? She hasn't even met me," replied Kurt unsurely as he pondered how rude it would be to just walk up to the woman and demand theater agency contacts. The truth was it was hard to get into the books of agencies. They had to make sure that you would make a lucrative client and more often than not, if you didn't have a college degree, mountains of experience, money or looks, you were too much of a risk, but seeing Noah's smiling face gave Kurt hope as he hugged him. "Thank you, Noah! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're like my knight in naked armor!"

"I like the sound of that," smirked Noah, raising his eyebrows as ideas for medieval role-playing games in the bedroom began surfacing in his mind. It was hot stuff, but again, now was not the time. Kurt needed him. "You deserve this, baby. I know it's going to be worthwhile. You got yourself a modeling contract with the help of others but for all this time you've been working your ass off to come where you are now. I know with that kind of attitude, you're going to make it big, and I'm going to be behind you every step of the way, just like you were with me when I needed someone the most."

"Are you sure you've never been a boyfriend before Noah, because you're shaping up to be the best I could have ever asked for," smiled Kurt, watching as the man stared emotionally back at him for a number of seconds before bringing their lips together in a loving kiss. Truth was, Noah had been a boyfriend in the past, but that had only been a label, it had never been in his heart to be what it was to be a 'boyfriend'. "I only hope I'm being as good a boyfriend to you as you are to me, honey. Maybe I could come visit you more at Harvard, keep you company in that lonely dorm of yours, how does that sound?"

"That would be nice, thanks baby," smiled Noah, his arms tightening around Kurt as he lowered the boy gently down onto the couch. The idea of Kurt waiting for him outside the lecture room with lunch and coffee, attending one of his college football games, waving a foam finger by the sidelines and looking prettier than all the cheerleaders put together and making out with him in the country's largest academic library by the dusty unread books. Noah really couldn't stop thinking what he could do with his boy. The possibilities were truly endless. "I love you Kurt, and I'm going to tell you that as long as I breathe."

"Really? I wonder what kind of face 'Puck' would have pulled if he'd have heard you say that, Noah, but then again I suppose being disgustingly sentimental was always within that big heart of yours," teased Kurt, his eyes flying open with life as he burst into laughter. Completely taken aback by the mocking comment, Noah wrenched Kurt back onto the couch as the boy made to escape and pinned him to the soft pillows, joining in the laughter as he mercilessly attacked the boy with kisses. There Kurt squealed adorably and cried out in mock protest before sharp gasps of erotic pleasure soon rocked the room.

**.**

**Glee**

**.**  

_Let's get out of this town, baby we're on fire, everyone around here seems to be going down, down_  
_If you stick with me, I can take you higher, and higher, it feels like all of our friends are lost, nobody's found, found, found_ _  
_I got so scared, I thought no one could save me, you came along scooped me up like a baby..._ _

Stepping out from the glass elevator, Kurt took a few steps forward before he glazed his eyes over the familiar surroundings. He was back at the Padova Pad, the lavish and ultra modern rooftop club where he had attended his first runway after party back in September. Not a great deal had changed in its appearance. The surfaces retained their sleek and glossy look, the glass panes in the dome above had been polished so that the night sky was very much in full view and the ambience created by the delicate lighting and atmospheric music lulled Kurt's lips into a smile as he was directed further into the club by Noah behind him. Yet the feature that was the most striking of all, was that it was only them two. There was no one else on the roof seeing as apparently his boyfriend had reserved it for a private party causing Kurt to wonder what was planned.

Kurt had been wondering a lot lately. Partly due to whether he should pursue musical theater on screen as well as on stage but mostly because Noah's behavior had been a little off. He didn't know what it was. It wasn't anything to worry or stress about, because it didn't seem that way. It was more like the man was very concentrated on something, entirely focused on a certain thing in his mind, so much so that when Kurt would attempt to talk to him, Noah would jump slightly from his ocean of thoughts and hold a look within his eyes as if he had been hit over the head with a baseball hat whilst at the same time, melting at the sight of Kurt as if he were falling in love with the model all over again. It puzzled Kurt, but he figured it was just a faze. Maybe his boyfriend was drunk on happiness, festive about Christmas or just a little weird. Who knew?

Yet living with Noah and his recent strange behavior had been so much fun. Inevitably, both of them had learned a lot about each other whilst residing under the same roof, often discovering their unique habits and traits one-step at a time. Kurt had come to know that Noah had a tendency to roll up his dirty washing and shoot them like basket balls into the laundry basket that he'd place on the other side of the room, he'd accentuate the muscles on his chest with marker pen when he was bored and he'd have a habit of flexing and kissing his 'guns' like a German body builder when he was at the gym after he'd managed to beat a personal record, even if he didn't know it. In fact the last time Noah had been there, Kurt had joined him, and he'd held the laughing model high above his head with ease before bringing him down and kissing him hard and fast.

Noah in turn had also come to know of Kurt's little traits that, in his mind, made the boy even more adorable. For example, because Kurt had quite large lips, he would use them just as much as his eyes and brows for expression. He'd bite them when someone would explain something to him, he'd lick them when he was about to speak and he'd pout without knowing when he'd become aroused. It was one of the things Noah had picked up on and as soon as he saw them protruding just a little, it was off to the bedroom. Other habits of Kurt's included wearing only skin tight yoga pants and nothing else when it came to dancing in the penthouse, biting and sucking on pens when he was heavy in thought (which was very much a libido wakener for Noah), and almost combing his boyfriend's arm hair with his fingers when they cuddled.

Bringing their heads away from the numerous pleasant memories of each other and returning to reality, Noah and Kurt made their way into the center of the club. Despite it being December, the interior was quite warm and the heating within seemed to be working quite well at dispelling unwanted cool breezes from entering. Kurt still didn't know what they were doing here, considering Noah had not said anything to him except "come with me", and off they'd gone. Now, as the boy looked up into the face of his lover, he watched as Noah glanced down at him, smiled and pointed to the far end of the roof. There, as the lighting brightened, was the liver shaped pool with hundreds upon hundreds of flowers floating on its calm surface and beside it was a dining table made for two, candles and a champagne bottle stored in ice right next to the classic white cloth.

"Oh my goodness... Noah, what this is?"

"My little surprise. Do you like it?"

"I love it. Did Anita help again?"

"Nope. This was all me."

"Well, I have to say that I am thoroughly impressed. You really are the modern day Casanova, aren't you?" smiled Kurt, turning away from the sight to face Noah. So this is what had been causing the man's strange behavior as of late. Unlike his birthday night which had been thrown together at the last minute for a race against time, this view before him was even better, and to think that Noah had done it all by himself. Kurt was immensely grateful. "But before anything happens Noah, I want to make sure I'm nice and clean for this evening you have planned. I wouldn't want to appear a little... dirty."

Pacing backwards with his blue eyes held on Noah, the man's hazel orbs sizzling with intrigue, Kurt began to strip. His shoes and socks were popped off, his polo top was unbuttoned and cast aside and his skinny jeans were loosened and shimmied out of to land by his feet so that by the time his hands were on the elastic waistband of his briefs, the boy was in nothing but his underwear. There he stood with Noah a few meters watching. There they stood silent. The air was electric with both the chemistry and a pulse with as much bass as a dance beat. Kurt hadn't planned to do this. It was all spontaneous after taking influence from the pool and its scarlet flowers bobbing up and down like boats, and so with a wink, he whipped around and dived into the water, traveling the length before resurfacing on the other side amidst the beauty of scented flowers.

"Come on in, baby! The water's so refreshing!" Laughed Kurt as he waved at Noah, still standing where he'd been left to stare. The boy's skin was glistening from the pools droplets and the perfume of the rosacea was almost intoxicating to the point where it could have knocked him unconscious, but before his eyes could begin to droop at the mercy of flowers, a splash was heard. Noah wasn't by the pool anymore, but a current was zooming rapidly towards him. The flowers were scattering, the waves were growing, and with a sudden thunderous burst, Noah surfaced before him like a hunk from the deep.

"That's right my little dolphin, I'm a shark of the water to," smirked Noah, lowering his head so that only the top of it floated above the water line, his eyes looking right back at Kurt, who was at this point, nursing a rapidly beating heart. It had been one of the scariest yet most exhilarating experiences he'd ever had in a pool. He'd known Noah had entered the water but because of the Cherry Blossoms acting as a barrier, he'd not been able to pinpoint where he was exactly. All he'd had to go on was a Jaws like approach that had him light heartedly smacking Noah softly over the head. "Ow, watch the shark fin."

"Your shark fin, Noah? You are such a child," giggled Kurt, watching as Noah raised himself to his eye level before floating before him, placing both his hands on either side of Kurt's face. There they stared at each other, long and hard. It didn't occur to Kurt that anything was happening apart from the dusting of green in the man's eyes, as Noah took hold of his legs, wrapped them around his own hips and directed the boy's arms around his neck as he leant him softly against the pool wall. Their faces were close now, lips setting sights on each other's until the kiss was born, and born it was. Contact.

"Babe, your lips taste like roses," grinned Noah as he pulled away from the kiss to lather Kurt's nose in Eskimo kisses of the most affectionate kind. It was a true observation though. During his early modeling days, Kurt had experimented with creating skin care products from things around his kitchen. What he used on his lips was his own mixture of Rosa Damascena Flower Oil and Almond Oil, both sets of oil that drenched his lips in not only moisture, but offered them that rosy tint that made them absolutely irresistible. "They're always so soft and full... God, I'm getting turned on even describing them."

"Want to know more about my lips, Noah?" Asked Kurt, Noah nodding as the boy went along with the description, illustrating it by tracing his lips as he went along. "I've been told my lips are shaped in the Hollywood style. Apparently, it's a style ideal for those who desire attention to their lips without a full presentation of both upper and lower lip, one you see on people on TV or in the movies. I think it potentiates all three-forms of the upper lip, which are the two tapering rhomboid shapes and the half bucket in the middle of the upper lip. I don't know. My makeup artist knows much more about it than I do."

"Cool, but I thought the ideal lip shape was the cupid style or whatever," replied Noah unsurely, his eyes struggling to leave Kurt's little finger as the boy pressed it against his lips a if it were a little person landing on a soft red mattress. Sexy. "It's just that when my mom would run me a bath and recount her day when she was still competing in pageants, she'd mention how all the other chicks would go under the knife or needle to get that mouth, to get them  _the_  set of lips that would win them the crown all by themselves, though more often than not, they'd just turn into quacking duck faces with pelican pouts."

"I've heard of that happening. Don't they also go overboard with breast implants? I hear they get them done so big that they don't need to close doors because their boobs do that for them. I mean, their kids must have some fun nursing is all I can say," laughed Kurt, yet the topic of women crossed his mind like a news flash. Noah had originally gone for girls. The ones with the large lips and voluptuous breasts had no doubt been la crème de la crème. Now it was Kurt's turn to feel inadequate. "Speaking of breasts, Noah. Now that you're with me, don't you find yourself... missing them? Missing girls?"

"I knew you were going to ask me this sooner or later," sighed Noah, pulling away from Kurt and lowering his head to stare at the water as if he were about to delve a life changing secret, before raising his eyes to meet the model's expectant gaze. In return, Kurt himself really didn't know what he wanted to hear. "Kurt, I'm going to be honest with you. I do miss girls, I'm still into them. Their skin is soft, their lips are red, they smell nice and they're sweet all round babes. I'll always have the hots for them. I mean, I'm bi. You've got to understand that it's been a big change for me from sleeping with one gender, to you."

"I understand... I'm just surprised I feel the way I do, because I never thought I'd date a bisexual. I'd feel as though your shared attraction to both sexes would render me insecure. That's why I'd always envisioned only dating gay men, there'd be no risk of a woman being better than me," muttered Kurt quietly, shifting his eyes away and staring off into the sky towards the glimmering skyscrapers of the city. Yet at these words, Noah's heart plummeted. His bisexuality had never been an issue until now, but now that it had been discussed in detail, was Kurt put off? Was he going to lose interest? Leave him?  _Oh no..._

"Kurt, look at me, baby, look at me," pleaded Noah in panic, Kurt pulling his sight away from space as he took in the man before him, staring at his anxious face before it struck the boy. No wonder Noah was now fretting. What Kurt had said had terrified him, but before he could calm the man down, Noah was already rambling. "Kurt, even though I still like chicks, I like you better. I love you. I fucking love you. You're the best of both worlds. You have the skin, the lips, the smell, everything that I like in girls, but you're a guy. You're perfect. I connect better with you than I do chicks. Please don't leave me!"

"Noah, calm down. I'm not going to lea-"

"I'll try to be gay, Kurt. I'll be-"

"Don't be silly, Noah. You can't choose your sexuality."

"Sure I can. Quinn said I was already half way there. I'm gay."

"Noah! Will you listen to yourself?! You're being ridiculous!" Exclaimed Kurt profusely, struggling to breathe as Noah's arms circled him tighter on his body, pressing them closer together. It had come back again, this time stronger. "We are not going to have this discussion again, do you hear me Noah? I am  _not_  going to leave you. Don't let your fears control you like this, you were doing so well. Besides, if you would have let me finish, I would have gone on to say that even though I once saw bisexuality as a deal breaker in a future relationship, I've actually grown to find it rather... attractive in a man."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean to... Christ, I didn't mean to react that way," replied Noah, loosening his grip around Kurt before bringing a hand to his head and rubbing at it with a little more force than was really necessary. What the fuck was wrong with him? What the actual fuck? Any decent person would have questioned Kurt or allowed him to speak, not freak out like a child being ripped away from their parents. Then again, that was an appropriate example for Noah, one he could relate to for too comfortably. However, in midge of it all, Kurt's last words echoed. "Wait? You find being bi hot? Why?"

"I like it's... fluidity," confessed Kurt as he eventually landed on the word he was looking for, whilst meanwhile bringing his hands to the top of Noah's chest to trace his wide collarbones. "I don't know, I just find it hot, and to me the more fluid you are with your sexuality, the more open you are about sex in general, though I hear there are those who don't believe in it, with is just biphobic. They say there's either gay or straight, that if you're bisexual you're 'greedy', and that you should pick a side and stay there. Going by what you've just said about Quinn, I'm guessing she doesn't believe in bisexuality either."

"No she doesn't, but screw her. I guess I've always had it in the back of my mind that a hole is a hole. It doesn't matter if it's a dude or a chick, because if it feels good or if you feel like there's something there, go for it. Labels are for fucktards," spat Noah, quietly seething at the ignorance of bigots but before he angered himself even more, Kurt's fingers had descended from their perch at his collarbone to right above his nipples. There they paused before lowering and circling them, Kurt's filed nails adding a little friction and contributing to Noah's deteriorating self-control. "K-kurt... what you... what you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just playing with your body. I hope you don't mind," smiled Kurt, keeping his face sweet and soft as his fingers continued to rotate like motors for an engine powering up for the roar. He'd read that the nipples were crammed with pleasure-receptive nerve endings, and when stimulated correctly, this erogenous zone transmitted feel-good sensations to the brain in the same way the genitals do. As a result, by the way Kurt was going, he was reducing the man in front of him to a panting mess. He'd remembered how sensitive Noah's chest was, and now, the man was at his mercy.

It was so hot. It was so fucking hot. Kurt's fingers were really applying the pressure now. They were teasing the nub of Noah's nipple, stroking it, doing anything and everything to coax the moans right out of the man's gasping mouth. Now, to accompany the step up in heat, Kurt's legs, which were still wrapped around Noah's hips, began grinding against the man's now rock hard member, but it didn't stop there. Bringing his lips to Noah's ear, Kurt brought out his tongue and with one lick, there was a shudder, with the second, there was a soft cry and with the third, there was a roar. Noah had been undone. The man slammed his hand against the wall of the pool as he came, and grunted out his pleasure as his body was overwrought with rapid spasms that surged though his body, his hips continuing to grate themselves against Kurt's gaping thighs.

"Fuck Kurt... fuck," whispered Noah, holding onto Kurt's body as he breathed heavily onto his pale neck. For Kurt, it was as if each breath that was ghosted heavily onto his skin was like a reward for his efforts. He knew that there were many envious women out there only wishing they could be in his position, and even though Noah wasn't going to give them the time of day, Kurt had felt the need to reaffirm his status in the man's life. It's not that he was threatened by competition per se, it was just a matter of personal reassurance, like it had been on their flight to the Hamptons. "God baby, what got into you?"

"What? Can't I break out into a spontaneous case of pleasuring the boyfriend? Your hot, baby. I couldn't help myself," smiled Kurt, yet unbeknownst to him, Noah had seen that spark of worry in his eyes when the man admitted his constant attraction to women. It was cute, but Kurt had nothing to worry about. No girl or guy for that matter would ever replace him. Besides, Noah was the one with the real problem. He was the one who'd slice open any man's throat if they even looked at Kurt that way. "Plus honey, you still seemed a little ruffled after all that bisexual talk. I just wanted to ease your min-"

"I know Kurt... I know."

"You... you do?"

"Baby, no one's going to steal me away."

"I know, I know. It's stupid... God, love can make you possessive."

"Put that on top of my fear of loss and you might be and the level I'm at about now," chuckled Noah. "Kurt, I'm know I'm hot. I don't pretend to ignore the looks I get from chicks, but I know that the only thing they're interested in is my body and money. That's all. I'm telling you, if they got to know me as you have, they'd bolt from all my emotional baggage. No girl wants to calculate how much a mental health professional would learn from my problems, and if I'd pursued them as I did you, they'd have busted me in and sued me for millions on charges of, I don't know, sexual harassment or something."

"Oh Noah, I'm sure there would have been at least a handful who would have looked past that. I did," smiled Kurt. "As for me, I may not have as much sexual confidence as you Noah, but I too think I'm not bad looking. However, contrary to what you may think, I don't get looks from men. Gay guys aren't into boys like me. I'm too much of a 'femme' in their eyes and you wouldn't believe the amount of femiphobia in the gay community. They treasure masculinity above all else and you, Noah, are just part of a small percentage who are into effeminate men. It's sad really, because in their eyes, I'm undesirable."

"Not to me you're not, Kurt. You're everything to me," assured Noah, bringing Kurt closer into his body. Imagining a young pretty Kurt, looking forward to meeting and dating gay guys like him in the city only to be rejected for being too effeminate. It must be a heart-crushing thing to experience, to be spurned by your own community just because you were born the way you were. At this, Noah was so glad they'd found each other now. He would have scared away girls due to deep personal issues and Kurt would have been pushed aside to live as an 'undesirable'. "Baby, I love your effemininity. I makes you... you."

"Really? Oh Noah, you have no idea what it feels like to have a hyper-masculine guy say that to me. I'm so lucky," smiled Kurt gratefully, leaning in and hugging Noah with all the love he possessed. When he pulled back, he was just about to lean in for a kiss when a Cherry Blossom sailed in between them on the current. Noticing it to, Noah picked it up from its watery floor and placed it under Kurt's nose. Smelling it and taking in its delicate petal design from within; the boy accepted the flower and smiled back at Noah. "Mmm, these smell really good. Where did you get them from?"

"I had them imported from Japan. Their Cherry Blossoms are the most beautiful," smiled Noah, Kurt feeling as though he were falling in love with the man all over again. "See, when I went there last year with my family for a vacation, we were invited by a Japanese business assosiate to go to his annual blossom-viewing party on his estate. We saw his Cherry Blossoms and over there they're a big deal because they're richly symbolic. Something to do with mortality. Everyone was having their picture taken against them with geishas. I'll show you the photos some time... actually no, I'll take you."

"You'll take me? To Japan?"

"Yeah, I said I'd have you fly with me anywhere, didn't I."

"I guess... you'd want me to pose under the Cherry Blossom trees, wouldn't you?"

"Even they would be envious of you, but yeah, that would make the best picture of all."

"I've always wanted to go to Japan. I like the food, their skin care, the music, I love harajuku culture and actually, believe it or not, I used to be a massive Nintendo nerd when I was younger," laughed Kurt, recounting his childhood obsession with Mario, and how he'd had to jump over lava pits and hoards of Goombas to save Princess Peach from the claws of Bowser, only to be rewarded with a measly slice of cake and a peck on the nose at the end. Urgh, he'd always thought Peach was an ungrateful bitch. "Yep, I was a real fan. I was actually a really good driver on Mario Kart. I'd win every race."

"Really? I'll have to race you some time. I wouldn't mind ramming into your bumper," grinned Noah, raising his brow in a challenge. He'd also been a fan of Mario when he'd been younger. He'd spend hours in front of the TV, tapping away on the console remote when he should have been doing homework, resulting very often in Anita threatening to bring a club down on it. Yet at this, he wondered if he and Kurt would have got along as kids. Even then, Noah had been sexual. He'd probably have stared at the boy next to him before taking hold of him and laying him over the Nintendo console for a good old smooch.

"What are you thinking about, Noah? Your eyes are going funny," giggled Kurt, taking in the man's dazed expression with much amusement. Blinking out of his trance at the melodious sound of the model's laughter, Noah let out his own rich set of chuckles. Kurt looked so beautiful when he laughed. However, as the boy eventually calmed down, he released the Cherry Blossom that had been given to him and allowed it to float away on the supple blanket of ripples surrounding them. "No, but I really like what you've done here Noah, with the flowers and everything. You really put thought into it."

"I wanted tonight to mean something baby, and I wanted these flowers to do the talking," explained Noah, pointing to the sea of bopping Cherry Blossoms all around them. To Kurt, Noah really seemed to have taken the symbolism of the flower to heart. When he'd seen Memoirs of a Geisha, the Chairman had told Sayuri that the lesson of the Cherry Blossom was to savor life whilst you could. You couldn't expect happiness since it wasn't something people deserved. When life went well, it was a sudden gift. It couldn't last forever. Maybe Noah had learned this lesson and was not wasting any more time...

Letting out a little squeal of surprise, Kurt's hands tightened around Noah's neck as the man began pulling away from the wall. There he waded through the shallow water towards the pool steps, their wet skin as the water level descended down their bodies, soon finding itself decorated with Cherry Blossoms as the pink flowers stuck to their glistening flesh. Up and up and up Noah went, Kurt still wrapped around him like a baby koala before they arrived on the poolside, the gentle evening breeze causing the model to shiver ever so slightly. Taking in Kurt's slight chill, Noah allowed the boy to untangle himself from him before giving him a kiss and handing over a towel that had been hung neatly a heat rack nearby. There the soft fibers soaked up the friendly droplets latching onto his fine hairs, removing the Cherry Blossoms but keeping him warm all the same.

Returning with their clothes, Noah dried himself off with his own towel and proceeded to hand over Kurt's apparel. The boy found it a lot more difficult to get into his skinny jeans than he had done getting out of them, because from all the swimming and pool flirting, it hadn't rendered it any easier. Yet he managed in the end to get them on as well as his polo top and as he looked over at Noah, he noticed that the man had only settled on his jeans. Kurt was amazed Noah wasn't shivering. It was quite chilly, yet he supposed the man did have more bulk on him than he did. Having a tough hide especially when it came to football games in the rain or when it was biting cold was necessary, and so Kurt watched as the man approached him and enveloped him in his arms. There they wound around him like branches of bronzed muscle, keeping him warm. Safe.

However, they were not wound around him for long. Whimpering at the loss of contact, Kurt felt Noah's arms retract from his waist, his fingers lingering on his torso before the touch disappeared and wondering what was going on, the boy looked into the face of his lover. What he saw looking back at him was a look he'd never forget. Noah's breathing had descended into slightly erratic breathing, as though his mouth were parched, as if butterflies fluttering in his stomach were breeding by the dozen. Yet even this was equipped by his eyes. Noah's hazel eyes were glistening, welling, and Kurt didn't know why, until now. Looking on with his blue eyes too astonished to blink, Kurt watched as Noah knelt down on one knee and pulled out from his pocket, a ring box, holding it up in the moonlight's spotlight as he cleared his throat. This was it. It was happening.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, the boy I've finally discovered true happiness with, the model whose sweet grasp has my heart forever bound, and the only soul I've ever felt the greatest of affection for, will you do me the honors of making me the happiest man on earth by becoming my husband?" Proposed Noah, opening the box to reveal a Harry Winston ring, shining, beautiful. Yet, he couldn't hear his own voice. Noah's storming heart was deafening atop nerves as stable as gelatin, but he continued to trust the words his mouth formed, for it was at the mercy of his feelings. "Baby, will you marry me?"

"Noah..." muttered Kurt as he struggled to come to terms with what was happening. Noah was proposing. The man was actually proposing, something the boy feared would come about all too soon. Kurt was not ready for this. They were going too fast. They'd only finished moving in his things and now Noah wanted to get married! Yet there the man was on his knees awaiting a reply, looking deeply into his eyes and begging him to say something, to accept his hand in marriage. The man Kurt loved was beseeching him to say yes, say yes, say yes, God beg you, say yes! What was he to do? "Noah... I... I don't think-"

"Shit..." croaked Noah, looking down form Kurt's unsure eyes to the ground, his outstretched hands accompanying his defeat. He hadn't known that this was going to happen. It could not be fucking happening. He'd seen the aisle he'd imagined Kurt walking up and joining him at the altar where they'd be wed at St. Paul's Cathedral, he'd scoured long and hard for the perfect ring that envisioned his boy to the last spec of diamond and he'd had hopes of them Honeymooning under the raining petals of the Cherry Blossom trees in Japan, but now it all seem to disintegrate into painful reality. Kurt had said no. "Fuck!"

"No Noah, please! Where are you... come back, please!" Begged Kurt desperately, watching with frightened eyes as Noah stood up and marched away towards the glass fence overlooking the booming city. For a minute, the boy feared the man was going to throw the ring over the side with shot put like strength and anger, or even worse, throw himself off, but as he timidly approached Noah, he eventually stopped. The man still had the box in his palm but was leaning on the fence with his head down but his back arched and breathing heavily. So heavily, it looked as if he were about to strike. "Noah, please..."

"Please what, Kurt! You said no!"

"No I didn't!"

"Well you didn't say yes!"

"You caught me off guard, Noah! I wasn't anticipating this!"

"That's the whole point, Kurt! You're not to know otherwise it ruins the whole thing!" Barked Noah, pulling away from the fence and rounding on Kurt. Stepping back and almost cowering, Kurt took in the look of hurt in the man's eyes. No longer did they glisten with happiness at the thought that in no time at all, Kurt would be wearing upon his alabaster finger, a ring to symbolize his union to Noah, no longer did they well in hope that this time he would be a fiancé deeply in love, but of sadness, anger and heartbreak. "Doesn't matter anyway. You don't want to marry me, you don't want this ring, you don't-"

"Noah, you popped the question and I listened, now it's my turn to answer and by God you will listen to me," retorted Kurt. "You want to know something; I've never been into marriage. I never had a wish box with my gift for my first-born child, a town house in the city, a beach house in East Hampton, my dream man or my back up dream man. I never wore pillowcases over my head as a veil or even imagined my wedding, because truth is, I never thought I'd get that far, and to have you propose only to give up because I'm realizing someone genuinely wants to marry me that bad? I won't let it happen."

"You didn't say yes, Kurt! You hesitated and then you went on to say you don't think something... and that's when I cut you off," replied Noah. "Baby, I love you and I want to marry you, but do you know what happens to marriages when either person has their doubts, they fail! They end in divorce and are left to the mercy of that fucking nightmare of a dating scene! Kurt, I don't want that to happen to us. I want to spend the rest of my hot days with you. I want you to bear my adopted babies and I want to grow old and senile with you. I want... that's right laugh at me, Kurt! Laugh in my fucking face!"

"No Noah, it's just hearing a once proud promiscuous womanizer speak so passionately about wanting to raise a family. It melts the heart," laughed Kurt, placing a hand over his giggling mouth as the tension broke away. The family life Noah wanted was with him. The man had known the moment he'd fallen in love that Kurt would be his partner, that when they'd be older, they'd raise their own little litter of Pucklings in their East Hampton nest and live there contently. Kurt smiled. Maybe cliché wasn't all that bad. He had Noah. "You know honey, now that you've made me picture it, it doesn't sound half bad."

"What... what are you saying, babe?" Stuttered Noah, his throat gulping as if it were preparing for too much hope to come shooting up and out of his mouth in a babble string of incoherent words. Was Kurt coming round on the idea of marriage? Was he saying yes? Typically the answer to a proposal was voiced several minutes after the question was popped but as that marker passed and Noah was now unsure as to what Kurt's stance was, he nearly burst. This was like torture, and so he neared the boy, only to have said by boy step back, a glint in his blue eyes. "Don't play games with me, Kurt."

"I'm not playing anything."

"Kurt, what do you say?"

" ... "

"For fuck's sake, Kurt! Do you want to marr-"

"Remember when we first met?" Reminisced Kurt as Noah halted in his tracks. "It was around here that I was drinking with my friends before I was told by the show's director that you wanted to meet and congratulate all the models in the show. I didn't want to go, I was already having a good time, but I was forced and made to stand in line to shake hands with you. Except I didn't shake your hand, did I? We were introduced, but I never brought my hand up to meet yours. I made an excuse on the spot, I ran and I tried to avoid you for the rest of the night, yet you found me. Do you remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," sighed Noah softly, his eyes traveling up and down Kurt's body. "I only got the director to do that Kurt because I wanted to meet you. I didn't care about the other models. Like I said, I'd already met them all before. It was you I wanted to meet. I wanted to see you up close and personal because I felt so far away from you when you were on that runway, even though I was in the first row. It just wasn't enough, but yeah, when you bolted, I thought I'd done something wrong. That you didn't like me, that I stank, that you'd catch something if you touched me. What you did, Kurt... it hurt."

"Yet you still went looking for me..." whispered Kurt, shaking his head in disbelief that even after having been affectively snubbed, probably for the first time by a model, Noah had still gone after that hand shake from the one boy he had had his eyes fixed on for the entire night.  _Wow_ , thought Kurt,  _God bless male persistence_. "I'm sorry, Noah. I'm sorry I was like that with you. You didn't deserve it, but you have to understand that even though I no longer had a crush on you back then, I felt like you could so easily undo me even with a simple look. I felt weak around you, and I couldn't stand it. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, baby. I don't care; I got your number in the end, didn't I. You posed a challenge by not falling for the good old Puckerman charm and that had me more intrigued by the minute," smirked Noah as he saunted over to Kurt. For Noah, one thing Kurt didn't know was that the boy had not been the only one to show poor conduct. When he and Kurt had been introduced, Noah had taken his time to check the model out, to really lather his eyes on him and to bring himself closer than he'd done with any of the other models. He'd broken Kurt's personal bubble with a hot pop! "We're cool babe, everything's cool."

"Well, even if we are Noah, I want to make it up to you. I want to give us the proper introduction we never had," replied Kurt determinedly, stepping away from Noah and adjusting his clothes. Getting the idea, Noah smiled before he too adjusted his jeans, which were barely hanging off his v shaped hips, before Kurt lifted up his hand for the man to shake. Yet instead, Noah took it up and kissed it tenderly, causing a blush to bloom onto Kurt's cheeks. So beautiful. "Good evening Noah Puckerman, my name is Kurt Hummel, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, friend, lover and... husband."

"And what?" Asked Noah incredulously as he froze. His eyes that had latched onto Kurt's baby blue pools and that smirk that had once held the air of sex, now faded in a flash in favor of one of complete disbelief. The hand that had taken a hold of Kurt's wouldn't let go and the kiss that he'd graced onto his pale skin now sizzled with heat as if it were representing how the man felt inside. This had to be one of the most unusual marriage proposals he'd ever come across, but he didn't care. Kurt had just agreed to be his! He had accepted his hand! Literally! "Kurt, baby do you mean it? Are you saying this for real?"

"You want to get the ring first?" Laughed Kurt, Noah quickly nodding before he impatiently pulled the ring box from his pocket, hastily knelt down on one knee and opened it, presenting the ring that took Kurt's breath away. It was absolutely stunning. A cushion-cut micropavé diamond ring in a platinum setting. An unmistakable Harry Winston classic. Love. "Yes Noah Aaron Puckerman, the man who has always fought for what we have, the man who taught me that the greatest affection knows no boundaries, and the man who is and will undoubtedly always be the love of my life, I will marry you."

"Oh... baby," choked Noah, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it effortlessly onto Kurt's outstretched finger. Bringing it up to the moonlight, the boy admired it, yet his vision was blurred. Tears were glimmering in his eyes at too greater rate and as he looked down at Noah, he noticed he wasn't the only one with cheeks stained with cascading droplets of joy. Soon, the man before him picked him up, spun him around and brought him in for kiss, sealing their new status that both were prepared to treasure indefinitely. "Kurt, you've made me the happiest man in the world. You hear that? We did it! We found love!"

Pulling away from the kiss, Kurt wiped away Noah's tears as well as his own. He wanted to see the man before him, wanted to see how happy he had now made him. They were now engaged and who knew, within a year, they'd be married. Kurt wondered what his father would say, what his mother would think. Though she was no longer with him, he knew she would have bestowed her blessing. For her little baby boy, her little treasure who she'd left all too soon, was in love. Kurt and Noah loved each other, and it was true. Though they were young and their lives were merely starting, the first chapter in their story was finished. Neither of them knew what changes big or small lay ahead but one thing was for certain, their journey was not over. They could only hope that in some small way, their time in New York City would be remembered.

_Every now and then, the stars align, boy and boy meet by the great design_  
_Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?_  
_Everybody told me love was blind, then I saw your face and you blew my mind_  
_Finally you and me are the lucky ones this time._

**FIN**


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